


Nevermore

by Whatevergirl



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Mulan (1998)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2018-03-10 13:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 27,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3292082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatevergirl/pseuds/Whatevergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To save both his father's life and his sister's happiness, Ping joins the army. Possibly not the best move he had ever taken, but it was done. </p><p>Amidst his struggles with his family's disappointment, his fellow troops and his lack of self-esteem, the last thing the young man expected was to find himself falling in love with his commanding officer.</p><p>Still, even as Ping sets out to return to his twin sister, he finds himself growing into someone far more than he had ever expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary.

The first time Fa Ping walked through camp, he had Mushu at his back. The small, ‘travel-sized’ dragon was a great comfort, for all that his words terrified the 18 year old. The creature didn’t question that Ping had no idea how to be a man; he didn’t ask why he cringed at the sight of men picking their noses, why he flinched at weapons; he didn’t pick at any sore points that Ping was unwilling to explain. Mushu simply helped him fill in the blanks.

Well, some blanks. Ping hadn’t strutted more than a few feet into the camp before realising that his normal walk wasn’t out of place here. It was true some men made themselves seem larger than life, but most seemed to be relaxing. 

He outright refused to act just like them though, gaping in horror as he watched a man use his chopsticks to clean in between his toes. The pride in Mushu’s voice as he looked on made absolutely no sense.

The tattoos, the aggression, the humour derived from it… Ping watched them and was unsure if he wanted to fit in. However he did try to join in, punching one man when instructed, though he refused to slap his arse on command. In response to Ping’s disobedience, Mushu shouted an insult which the short, angry man he had punched took offence to. 

Having this man advance on him threateningly was far more unnerving than when Mulan felt the need to get aggressive; after all, he trusted her to stop before he was actually hurt. Ping scrambled out the way of the on-coming fist, which narrowly missed him and instead hit a table, sending someone’s dinner to the floor.

The tall man stared at his food for a moment, before turning his glare on both Ping and the short guy. When he threw himself at them, Ping backtracked quickly, falling over a crate and knocking someone else over. The person he had knocked over decided to join the fray and throw the contents of the crate over Ping. Thankfully, the chickens weren’t too bothered, but they scratched him as they tumbled to the ground and the now empty crate must have tripped someone else up, because there was more angry shouting.

As the fight really got going, Ping resorted to his usual tactic and curled in a ball, protecting his head and hoping to remain unnoticed. Would his sister have had this much trouble? She was always so confident in what she did, surely she would have managed better.

As he received blows and bruises, he wished Mulan was here. He wished they had switched places. Mulan struggled with the ‘obey your place’ thing that women had to follow, but he was better at things like that. If he had gone to the matchmaker for her, maybe she wouldn’t be dishonoured now. 

Her misery was why he was here in the first place. Ping refused to let his father come out here. The man was old and his body would be unable to support him out here. Mulan was closer to their father than he was, and she would break if anything happened to him. Ping would not let that happen. 

No one had thought to forbid him from taking the conscription and joining the army in their father’s place; he knew what they thought of his courage… and his lack of it. He was aware that he had been sickly for a large portion of his life, that he had never joined in with the games that other boys played; he knew that playing with his sister, trying on her clothing and playing shops with her was frowned on; he knew his mother often found him shameful, but he didn’t care. 

The Fa family did not need him, but they needed his father. They needed Fa Zhou; and Ping would do anything to facilitate this.

Even if that meant cowering on the floor. He had only just joined the army, he couldn’t be expected to know how to fight quite yet, surely.

Suddenly, everyone took a step back, and Ping took a shy peek out of his defensive position and saw a stern face glaring down at him. Fight over, the young man quickly got to his feet.

“I don’t need anyone causing trouble in my camp.” The man informed him.

“Sorry.” Ping replied, flinching away. He frowned slightly, realising that didn’t sound confident. He wanted to be confident, just like Mulan. “I mean, sorry… that you had to see that. You know how it is, you get annoyed and just have to shout… things. One of those manly things, like woodwork and masonry and scribing and cooking and… outdoors, I mean. Cooking outdoors. Manly… stuff…”

He tried to make his voice gruff and low, like his father’s, but it trailed off quickly. The faces glaring at him (and now that Ping looked, it seemed to be everyone in the camp) didn’t seem to hold any confidence in his words. He looked at his feet, trying to think of something to say, but desperately hoping they would leave him alone. 

“What’s your name?”

“Name? I- I have a name.” The handsome face of his commanding officer leaned closer and Ping froze up, terror seeping through him.

“Which is?” The man snapped.

“Um… I…” He stuttered, wishing the man would move away. “Name…”

“ _Do you wanna go for a false name? Go for Ling._ ” Mushu picked a fine moment to reappear, making Ping jump.

“Ling?” asked Ping, wondering why he would give a false name.

“Ling?” The officer nodded his head and stepped back slightly.

“Ping!” yelped the young man, not wanting to be known by the wrong name, and finding his voice return with the distance between them.

“What? Which is it?”

“Ping. My name is Ping.” Should he have told them his name? Maybe Mushu wanted Ping to give a false name for a reason, but he couldn’t really ask the small dragon without making a worse impression than he already had.

“Let me see your conscription notice.” 

That was easy enough. Ping handed over the paper he had taken from his father’s beside table. 

“Fa Zhou? _The_ Fa Zhou?” 

“I didn’t know Fa Zhou had a son.” Exclaimed the scribe beside the commanding officer.

“Uhh…” The idea knocked him. His father had actually kept him hidden? “Guess he doesn’t… talk about me much.”

Ping looked at his feet again, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He was willing to bet they had heard of Mulan. Everyone knew who Mulan was, whether it was for something good, or one of her well-meant disasters. His sister was a mix between clumsy and graceful. In her confidence, Ping was certain she would do anything, but put her in an uncomfortable situation and everything went downhill. 

“I can see why.” muttered the scribe, the disgust evident in his voice. “The boy’s not… much…”

“Okay, gentlemen. Thanks to your new friend Ping, you’ll spent tonight picking up every single grain of rice. And tomorrow, the real work begins.”

The officer and the scribe marched off, the red and blue fabric they both wore striking a bold picture in Ping’s misery.

 _Every_ grain of rice? As in all of them? Ping silently headed over to pick up a bowl. The men parted as he passed them, and when he picked a spot to crouch in and start gathering the grains, a large perimeter formed around him.

“ _We’re here._ ” Whispered Mushu, his small, red body moving away to assist Ping. The cricket chirped and hopped over to the bowl, dropping a grain into it.

Ping didn’t reply. He simply focussed on his task, trying to absorb himself in it completely. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to acknowledge the fact that he was a disgrace to his family who had made the entire camp hate him on the first day.

It was long and tedious work, and though the other men cut off when the light fell away, Ping continued. He didn’t know if his officer had meant the command literally, but the young man didn’t want to go and pitch his tent. At least here he was sort of near people. He wasn’t too alone.

It was well past the middle of the night when Ping finally crawled into the tent that Mushu had erected for him.

“ _It was your first day._ ” The guardian said, his small paws pressing into the pillow by Ping’s ear. “ _No one has a good first day._ ”

“This was a bad idea.” Ping sighed, his body exhausted. “I should never have left home.”

“ _Give it time. Just… give it time._ ”


	2. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I sought to borrow from my books surcease of sorrow

The next day, Mushu woke Ping up far too early. He was usually a morning person, and he often enjoyed relaxing in their garden and watching the sun rise. Unfortunately he had spent most the night collecting rice.

By the time he staggered out of his tent and towards the camp though, he was feeling more awake. 

“Looks like someone slept in this morning.” One of the men shouted, a grin on his lips. 

Ping frowned, but didn’t reply. He simply stood beside them, the rice he had eaten churning uncomfortably in his stomach.

“ _Ready to kick the other kid’s butt?_ ” Mushu asked quietly in his ear, but the young man ignored him. 

“Hey, Ping? Are ya hungry?” Ling shouted as he strolled over to Ping.

“Yeah, cause I owe you a knuckle sandwich!” Growled the short man, Yao (if Ping was remembering correctly).

Ping took a deep breath, trying to work up his courage to say something. He wouldn’t kick anyone’s butt, but perhaps he could talk his way out of this. Yao grabbed his collar, and he tried to pull back, mind racing for the words that would keep him from harm.

“Soldiers!” Their commanding officer, Li Shang, came striding towards them.

Everyone fell into orderly lines, and Ping was released. 

“You will assemble swiftly and silently every morning. Anyone who acts otherwise will answer to me.”

Ping tried to not gape as Li slid his shirt off and picked up a quiver full of arrows and a bow.

“Ooh, tough guy.” Yao remarked, unwisely.

“Yao. Thank you for volunteering. Retrieve the arrow.” Li shot an arrow up high to the top of a post in response to the sarcastic comment. Ping felt a grin twitch at his lips at the man’s cheerful tone.

“I’ll get that arrow, pretty boy, and I’ll do it with my shirt on.”

Ping wondered at the ‘tough guy’ act. It wasn’t something he understood; they were, after all, here to train. If they didn’t have something to learn from Li then they would have been with the General instead.

“One moment! You seem to be missing something.” Li lead Chi-Fu over to Yao. Stopping, he pulled two weights out of the box the scribe was barely managing to hold. “This represents discipline and this represents strength. You need both to reach the arrow.”

As the men chuckled at Yao, who had stumbled with the weights, Ping stared at Li. Did he need both weights or both discipline and strength? There was something odd about the way the man had phrased that, but as he watched Yao slide back down the post, he realised it didn’t matter. Ping was fairly certain he would be unable to do so much as pick the weights up.

He was, of course, right. He watched the men, one by one, as they tried and failed to reach the arrow and once his turn came around, he couldn’t even get off the ground with the weights attached to his wrists. Blushing furiously, he crept back to his place in line, shame burning in his gut as he watched Li let out an exasperated growl into his hands.

The next thing Li did was breathing exercises. 

“You can’t do any kind of physical activity without first training your body to endure it.” Li informed them, his skin a glorious colour in the midday sun. “We need to work out your limits and extend them.”

“Breathing? Come on, pretty boy, we all know how to do that.” Yao rolled his eyes impatiently. 

“Do you? Push up position then, and hold it until I say otherwise.” He glared at the short man until his instructions were obeyed, then the young captain continued on. “The muscles that control your breathing are in the part of your body that is vital for everything from posture to how you move. They need to be strong.”

Li glanced down at Yao, who was dripping with sweat as he struggled to stay in position.

“Here you can see, Yao does not know how to control his breathing. His skin is getting that tint because he is holding his breath.” Yao’s arms gave out, and he collapsed into the grass, eyes glaring up at Li. “Everyone sit.”

Ping dropped to the ground, legs crossed and back straight as he had been taught.

“I want everyone to breathe in, count to ten and then exhale slowly. Then I want you to do this ten times.”

Ping obeyed, feeling a calmness wash over him that he hadn’t felt since before leaving home.

“Now, I want you to do the same breathing while in a push up position. You can have your elbows on the ground if you need to, but don’t let anything between them and your feet touch the floor.”

Ping pushed himself into position, though he needed to rest on his elbows. For a fair few moments, the position was ok.

“Ping, you are on the grass. Body up. Jian, body up. Lei… what is that? Look at those around you and copy them.”

Ping’s hips had sagged, so he tightened his buttocks and tried to hold his position.

“Don’t forget your breathing.”

And so the afternoon continued. It was far more difficult that Ping had anticipated and by the time it came to getting dinner, he just wanted to go back to bed.

“ _You did good, kid._ ” Mushu whispered. 

“I did terrible.” Ping muttered. And he had. By the end, his breathing had been more gasping and his arms and legs felt as though the bones had been turned to liquid. He had stumbled and fallen into their captain. He wasn’t going to forget that glare any time soon.

“ _It was the first day. And he has set some of those exercises for every day. You can only get better._ ”

Ping didn’t reply, he just stood behind Chien-Po and waited for his food. 

“ _Eyes up, Ping. You need to stop staring at your feet._ ” Mushu’s voice had a harsh tone in it, but it made Ping’s shoulders sag and he slowly raised his eyes to stare at Chien-Po’s back. He was disappointing his guardian. 

Sitting down, Ping stuck by Chien-Po. He may not like the man’s friends, but he seemed to give off a calming vibe, plus he was big enough to hide behind. 

As he quietly plucked a pea out of his bowl, he wondered what his family would be doing. They would have noticed he had gone. He had crept into his parents’ bedroom in the middle of the night, taken the conscription notice, and then dressed in his father’s armour and left.

Honestly though, it wasn’t well planned. The armour was too big for him, and though he had tied it tightly, it dug in uncomfortably in several places. Hopefully, the training would help him fill out enough to wear it better.

The young man wondered if his sister was angry with him. He hadn’t told anyone what he had been planning to do, and they had always told each other everything. He hoped she would talk to him when he returned… if he returned… no, when he returned. When. He was going to go back home and show them all he could amount to something.

When… but not any time soon. Looking around, Ping realised he wasn’t the only one gazing morosely at his dinner. He probably wasn’t the only one out of shape either; while most of the men just seemed tired, there were a few rubbing sore muscles and struggling to gather enough energy to get about.

He had noticed that he was one of the youngest men there though; while most of the men there were younger, there were a couple of older men who had simply never served in the army before and so needed to be in a training camp first… Ping decided to take comfort from this, as his body was young and could surely recover from blows quicker than others. Ping would have been happier as a scribe in life, but now that he was here he would have to do the best he could to make everyone, including Captain Li see him.

Eventually, Ping staggered back to his tent. He was exhausted and made no move to strip down until his guardian dragon commanded him to. He just had to get through this training. Maybe at the end of it, he wouldn’t feel so pathetic all the time. Maybe he wouldn’t be useless and unworthy of notice… he just had to get there.


	3. Nameless Here for Evermore

_Thanks to TrueMercy for helping out with archery information. In the future I'll have to be less trusting of internet articles._

\------

Ping struggled slowly out of bed as the sun began its journey through the day. He crawled out of his tent to go relieve himself as Mushu chattered away, tidying the tent up; he had, in the three weeks since joining the camp, found that Mushu disliked it when just dropped stuff wherever and had no intentions of tidying it up.

As the sun changed the colour of the sky through its usual warm-up, Ping began his. He worked his way through the various exercises Li insisted they do then, once confident that his muscles were prepared, he set off on a jog.

Despite having been jogging every morning for a couple of weeks now, Ping still couldn’t go very far or very fast, but he had discovered that stretching before and after was very important; after all, it wasn’t good to be hobbling slowly around when you were still the most unpopular guy in camp. 

He was dreading the start of combat training though. Li had refused to begin until they had all improved in strength and discipline, but Ping knew no one would pull punches with him once they started. 

Breathing harshly, he slowed to a walk as he began to ascend the incline that lay halfway along his current route. He actually found he rather enjoyed a morning jog though. There was something peaceful about moving through the countryside when everyone else was still sleeping. One of the advantages to waking up so early he supposed, grinning to himself. 

His mother had always gotten up with the dawn as well. When he had been younger, she used to scold him for getting up before the sun had heated the day as she feared the cool air would make him ill, though in later years he wondered if she disapproved of him encroaching on her alone time… maybe when he returned, having been successful as a soldier, she would at last welcome the chance to spend time with him.

As the path turned back down, Ping began to jog again. He was past the halfway point… he was sure after 3 weeks it ought to be much easier, but it didn’t feel it. Mushu had his own theory, that Ping shouldn’t be jogging every morning, just every other morning, but the young man had come to realise his guardian was actually a mother hen, and so Ping often left him clucking away about one thing or another.

“Mushu?” Ping called as he jogged back towards his tent, where it was still on the very outskirts of camp.

“ _I’m over here, Princess. Go take your bath._ ” Mushu didn’t come out the tent, but he chucked out a towel and some clean clothing.

“Thanks Mushu.” Ping laughed as he headed off to the river.

His guardian was still sulking then. A few days ago, Ping had referred to him as a huǒ snake, or the fire snake from the Zodiac. He had meant it in an affectionate way, after all Mushu had brought him a great deal of good luck already, he assisted him throughout the day and he could breathe fire. However, the dragon had taken offence at being compared to something so pedestrian and had taken to calling Ping ‘Princess’. 

It didn’t particularly bother Ping though. A few times he had even tried to flutter his eyes and giggle like Mulan sometimes did, though he wasn’t very good at it. The laughter that emerged as a result was a nice change from the glares he received from the other recruits, and he welcomed it.

The water was cool as the young man slipped into it, and he hissed slightly. It was the same every morning, but the shock still made him gasp. Mushu would undoubtedly be along in a bit, claiming that Ping was taking too long and had to get out. 

He was glad of the friendship he had developed with the guardian. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, but having someone who treated him as his own person with his own feelings was new.

He dunked his head under the water, scrubbing his fingers through his jet black hair and down to his scalp. He knew it was something of a waste of time to insist of bathing every single day, but he hated it when sweat caused his clothing to stick to his skin. Bursting up and spitting out water, Ping grinned as he caught sight of Mushu, stood on the back of Tianma and tapping his foot.

Ping swam languidly over to the dragon, fighting to keep a smile off his face and great the guardian with a serious expression.

“Hello, Mushu.”

“ _It’s time to get out_.” Mushu stared down at him from his spot on the horse’s back.

“I’ve only just got in.” Ping adopted a pout, hoping his guardian would allow him more time.

“ _You’re going to be back in there soon enough anyway. You guys are starting jogging today. I looked at the notes that scribe makes._ ”

“So? I jog every day anyway.” Ping shrugged, once again feeling that the dragon was overreacting.

“ _This is longer than your normal jogs and you will have weights to carry. Now get out. You need to go eat and give your food time to settle before you head out on this._ ”

“Yes, mother.” Sighed Ping.

He obeyed the instruction though. As he dressed and headed off to get breakfast, Ping began to worry about carrying weights. He had no real upper body strength and the idea of being last was mortifying. Maybe Captain Li would start with something easy…

\------

He was a fool for ever thinking Li would start them off with something manageable. As Ping forced one foot in front of the other, he wondered how long it was since the Captain had done his own basic training; so long that he had forgotten the best way to go about it.

“ _Come on, Ping. Just a bit further._ ” Mushu whispered in his ear.

“C-Can’t do this.” He gasped, his limbs trembling as he moved.

“ _Course you can._ ” Mushu snapped. “ _You have me and cricket here. You have so much luck, you’ll fly through these things._ ”

“T-That cricket isn’t… isn’t lucky.” That cricket was the reason Mulan had struggled so much with the matchmaker; that cricket was clearly in hiding to avoid the consequences of his failure.

“ _Sure he is._ ” Mushu defended him. Ping didn’t answer though, instead he tripped over a rock and landed on his face.

“Oww…” he moaned, taking a moment to rest. It was nice to get the weight off his shoulders, but his face stung from where he must have scratched it.

“ _Come on, Princess, up you get. Uh-oh._ ” Mushu slipped back into his collar, and Ping rolled his head to the side to see what he was hiding from.

“Get up, Ping.” The Captain made no attempt to hide his displeasure as he picked up Ping’s weight and jogged back to the front of the group.

“ _Come on._ ” Mushu whispered. “ _Just ignore him. You’ll get there._ ”

Tears prickled at Ping’s eyes as he struggled back to his feet. Once again, he felt pathetic. He had failed… no one else had fallen over, no one else had had their burden removed.

“It’s ok.” The soft voice of Chien-Po interrupted his thoughts.

“Huh?” He rubbed his eyes and looked up at the man.

“I’m sorry we were unkind to you.” The gentle expression caused the tears to start falling.

“D-Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t cry Ling.” The large man laid a hand on his shoulder, before returning to his jog.

“My name is Ping.” He whispered at the retreating back.

“ _What does he know anyway?_ ” Mushu asked, angry on his friend’s behalf. “ _Now come on, we need to catch up._ ”

Ping sighed and forced his trembling legs to move.

\------

“Today we begin archery practice. How many of you have ever held a bow before?” Captain Li stood in front of his troops, his strong body holding the attention of Ping. He was like a statue; beautiful, but cold and unmoveable. 

Less than half the troops put a hand up, and Li sent them off to one side. He kept the absolute beginners with himself.

“Ok, we’ll start with getting you your bows. There is a chance you won’t get one the right size for you, but we do have those here who can make basic bows, so you needn’t worry about that. Now, organise yourself into a line; size order, tallest over to this side and the smallest over there.”

Ping was one of the smaller men, but he was glad not to be the smallest. 

Once they all had a bow, Li showed them how to string it, how to check the string was tight enough and how to de-string it. Ping's fingertips were sore by the time he had managed to add and remove his string several times, but he didn’t dare complain. It had only been a few days since he had failed so miserably at their jog, he didn’t want to draw attention to himself.

“Now, to find the nocking point, you need to place your arrow at 90° to the bow. Then, use the ink to mark the point. You won’t always need it marked, but until you can find it easily, use the ink as a reference point.”

Ping’s tongue was out the side of this mouth as he focussed on marking the angle. 

“Next, I want you all to stand in a line in front of the bales of hay. You pull the string back with your dominant hand, so hold your bow with the other one.” Li pointed at the large bales of hay that stood off to the side. Ping frowned, having assumed these were for the horses. Of course, he mused as stared down at his bow, most of the horses had with the main force. Even if the hay had been for them, it wasn't going to be used now.

“Captain? We haven’t got a target.” Jian spoke up, gripping his bow awkwardly. Several men nodded their heads at his statement.

“I’m not giving you targets yet.” Li gave them a harsh frown as they fell back into the line. “Pick a spot on the hay if you want a particular target, see if you can hit it twice. It doesn’t matter too much yet because I want to check your stance before we go to real targets.”

“I’m making note of how this goes.” Chi-Fu’s voice called across the camp from where he was observing the more skilled men.

“Feet slightly apart and stand parallel to your target. Hold your bow with a relaxed grip and… not that relaxed! Pick it up. Slide three fingers to just underneath your mark… Not your little finger, Ling. Now notch your arrow and draw your bow.”

“Ow!” yelped Ping as his fingers slipped and the string snapped at them before he had even pulled it back properly.

“Carefully!” Li snapped. “Now, hold your bow arm parallel to the target. Don’t lock it out, but have some bend in it. Bring the elbow of your other arm up to your shoulder and turn your head to look directly at the target… Yao, can you do this? Your eye has been that colour since we came here. Can you open it?”

“Not really. Only a slit.” Yao scowled at the Captain, but Ping understood why he was asking. Having one eye shut made it difficult to judge how far away things were.

“Right… well, look directly at where you want to hit and pull the string back to the side of your face. Careful! Don’t let it slip!” Li scowled as men fumbled with keeping their arrows in position.

“I can do this.” Hissed Ping, determined to do something well.

“Have your eyes just above the mark, so you can look down the arrow shaft.”

“When we don’t have a target.” Someone else grumbled.

“You’ll get targets when I’m sure you won’t kill someone. For now stand about 6 feet from the hay and try not to miss.” Li's face didn't look optimistic, despite the size of the hay bales in front of the recruits.

“I thought we were meant to learn how to hit actual targets. Not just a wall.”

“Stop being clever! I'll make the wall into smaller targets when you are ready. Now, focus on the centre of your target and let go…. Urgh, we need to keep practising.”

Ping’s arm was soon aching, but he kept trying. The first day of archery practice they didn't manage to hit the same spot with 2 arrows once, but at least by the end there were more arrows in the hay than in the ground, so at least they weren't failing entirely. Each of the men learned to pull the bow string until it was a comfortable movement, though numerous complaints could be heard about the strain on muscles that weren't built up enough yet. 

The next day they went for a group jog in the morning with the weights on their shoulders. Ping fell over again, but this time no one came back to help him. By the time he made it back to camp, they were tidying up from lunch.

“ _Come on, Ping. Let’s go get you changed into something clean. I know you don’t like to be sweaty._ ”

“What does it matter?” mutter Ping, loneliness creeping through his body as no one noticed him.

“ _It matters because you’re my friend. Come on, you change and I’ll make porridge._ ”

“Soldier!” A voice cried out as Ping turned in the direction of his tent. “Soldier!”

A hand landed on Ping’s shoulder, making him jump.

“How dare you ignore me?” Captain Li scowled angrily at him.

“If you don’t use my name, how should I know who you’re talking to?” snapped Ping, his frustration causing him to shout, where normally he wouldn’t.

“You are not joining in our next activity. You’ve done so badly that I want you to sit and make arrows until I tell you otherwise.” Li turned and began to walk away, but he paused and looked over his shoulder. “And until you do something useful, you’re nameless here; ignored! If you aren't even improving then there's no point in you being here.”

Ping’s face crumbled and he felt tears begin to fall again.

“I should never have come here.” He whispered.

“ _What does he know?!_ ” Mushu growled from Ping’s collar. “ _You’ll be the best soldier there is, just give it time. That's all you need. Not improving... I'll show him not improving._ ”

“But how much more time do I have?” Ping wondered softly, before turning away and heading back to his tent. “Will they really not use my name anymore?”

“ _You’ll do fine. Just wait and see_.”


	4. The Silken, Sad, Uncertain Rustling...Thrilled Me - Filled Me With Fantastic Terrors Never Felt Before

Ping sat quietly by himself, his hands gently petting Mushu. He had given up trying to interact with the others. The cold shoulder that Captain Li was giving the young man was difficult to deal with, but Mushu had not left him alone since the handsome man had so angrily snapped at him.

He was desperately trying to rationalise how the man could do that; after all, while Ping wasn’t a brilliant soldier, he certainly had improved. He curled his knees up to his chest, dislodging the dragon.

“ _You ready for bed there, Ping?_ ” asked his guardian, who was still calling him by his name, as opposed to a nickname.

“I guess…” he sighed, eyes drifting over to the main campfire in the camp, where most of the soldiers where sat chattering away together.

“Hello.” A soft voice permeated through the fog that clogged his mind.

“Huh?” Ping stirred, his eyes dragging up to the worried face of Chien-Po.

“Are you feeling ill?” The man sat on the floor next to him, and Mushu quickly disappeared up his tunic and up to curl against the back of his neck. “You always look unhappy.”

“Everyone hates me.” Ping said, tears suddenly welling up in his eyes. He scrubbed furiously at them, annoyed that the misery had overwhelmed him out of nowhere.

“No they don’t. It’s ok. I don’t hate you. Shh….” Comforted the large man as he shuffled closer to pat Ping’s shoulder.

“I’m not blind, and I’m not an idiot.” He hissed, angry that the man would lie to him.

“No. No… Why would you even think that?”

“Simple. No one will talk to me, they would rather fight me when we train.”

“Yao fights everyone. He mocks you because he doesn’t mind you. Don’t worry.”

“He mocks me because he likes me?”

“Well… Maybe, doesn’t mind you, rather than like you…” Chien-Po looked uncomfortable.

“Fantastic.” He grumbled, reaching one arm to rub behind his neck, fingers skimming comfortingly along Mushu’s scales.

“You could join us? Then people might get to like you?”

“I doubt it. I always get things wrong.” He shook his head, wondering how to explain that he had always been clumsy, that he had always struggled to focus on whatever it was he was meant to be doing, that he enjoyed being with his sister and helping with her duties more than his parents with comfortable with… that he had never been anything more than his sister’s shadow. 

“Not always. I see you out practicing every morning.”

“Yeah. So soon I’ll able to run but I won’t be able to do anything else.” He battled a smile though, the encouraging smile from Chien-Po giving him a warmth that had long since been missing. 

“I have another idea.” The man smiled at Ping and leaned close. “One morning you jog, the next we practise archery.”

“Practise? I’ve not done any archery, Captain Li won’t let me.” He found himself unable to keep this lip from curling at the idea.

“Then I will help you learn.”

“Away from the camp. I don’t want to kill anyone. I’m pretty useless at things. Captain Li said so…”

“The captain is stressed.” Chien-Po gave him a kind look. “Chi-Fu is threatening to tell the General of every problem and the captain is frightened you will hurt someone.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“No. It isn’t.”

“How do you even know?”

“I listen. Everyone drinks at night, but I sit off to the side and listen. You notice a lot that way.”

“Thank you, Chien-Po. Goodnight.”

“Good night.”

Ping hurried off to his tent, a smile gracing his lips. He began tugging off his clothing as he stumbled in. 

“ _Well, someone is happy._ ” Mushu tried to sound casual, but the grin was evident in his voice. 

“Maybe he doesn’t hate me!” Ping said, wriggling into a comfortable position on his mat.

“ _Chien-Po?_ ”

“What? No. Captain Li!”

“ _You want pretty boy to like you?_ ” Mushu scrambled over his shoulder to settle on the pillow next to his face.

“Don’t call him that!”

“ _Sorry. You’re prettier than him._ ”

“Wow. Thanks Mushu.” Deadpanned Ping.

“ _You are in a better mood. If better moods translate into better… moods… let me know in advance._ ” Mushu flicked his eyes down Ping before looking up to meet his eyes.

“I don’t like him like that.” Ping muttered as his eyes flickered shut.

\------

“Hold still.” Whispered a hot breath, low and seductive in his ear. Two strong hands pinned his wrists down as a weight pressed down against his back.

Fear spiked through him, and he moaned gently. He was hot, his skin burning as those hands moved to rub over his ribs. He wanted to roll over, to feel more. 

“Please.” He whimpered, rocking his hips. “Please.”

He gasped, feeling those hands roam his body again.

“Stay still.” And he trusted the voice, it was a voice he knew.

Ping frowned and turned over, his mind suddenly wondering who the voice was. All he heard was a yelp as he rolled over onto Mushu, the muggy grey colour of his tent filling his vision. 

“ _Ow!_ ” grumbled the dragon, squirming out from under Ping’s shoulder.

“If you want to go now Mushu? I’m in one of your ‘better moods’ now.” He informed his guardian as he rolled back over onto his belly.

“ _What? Really? And I was all comfortable… It had better not be about Captain Pretty!_ ”

The second the dragon had gone, Ping slipped a hand into his underwear and cupped himself. Was it Captain Li he had been imagining? Shutting his eyes, he imagined the man’s solid body covering his own, a hand reaching around and gripping him. 

He would kiss him. Captain Li would have been brought up properly, and he would kiss a young man before he groped him. Ping wondered what that would feel like, to feel someone else’s lips against his own. Warm? Hot, even? 

It would be hot even if they weren’t kissing, all pressed up and breathing the same air. He gasped as he tightened the grip on his cock, not moving it yet, just holding. Li would explore his body first, touch him in other places.

Ping slid one hand up to thumb at his nipple, feeling it harden as he played with it. He stopped and wriggled over to reach for his canister of water, his mouth feeling unbearably dry. 

Refreshed, he snuggled back in and licked his hand sloppily before moving it back down to grasp his cock. Cold water touched hot skin, and his hips bucked jerkily. One hand reached round to press against his lower ribs as he began to pull, little whimpers bubbling from his lips even though he didn’t want to make any noise. 

He had been at home the last time he had done this, without the image of a strong, muscled body to help him along the way. It took very little time before he let out a moan and came over his hand. He melted back into the bedsheets, a smile appearing languidly on his face.

Maybe if he got the hang of archery, he would be one step closer to his chance… his chance to do _something_ to get closer to Li, to prove that the man’s harsh treatment of him stemmed from a desire to keep him safe rather than a real hatred of him.

“I just need to improve. I’ll show him.” Muttered Ping.

It was a sentence he repeated in his head hours later, when terror flooded his veins as he accidentally knocked Ling out when they were practising the simple kata. It shouldn’t have happened as they were only learning the stages and moving slowly through them, but Ping had tripped over.

He cringed, body tensing up as the Captain moved over to them.

“Yao, Jian? Go take Ling off to be looked at. You? Stand next to Chien-Po. You’re too small to knock him over.” 

But Ping’s limbs were trembling badly as he continued on. He always messed up! It was even worse now that they were actually doing something interesting. It had been 3 weeks since archery training had started, and just 1 week since they had started combat training, weapon free for the time being. He didn’t want to get kicked out of this one too. He couldn’t have any more mistakes.

“Calm.” Chien-Po smiled over at him. “Like soup, simmering gently on the fire. There is heat in it, but the only evidence of this is the stream drifting gracefully up.”

“More like soup bubbling over and scolding anyone who gets in the way, regardless of whether they were just nearby or actually trying to get it off the fire.”

He wondered if Captain Li would get in trouble for this, if Chi-Fu would note that one of his recruits had been injured due to carelessness and lack of attention.

He hoped not.


	5. Presently My Soul Grew Stronger; Hesitating Then No Longer

Ping scowled at Mushu. He was tired after a busy day but he was going to make zongzi. It was the fifth day of the fifth moon and he was going to participate in this festival. He usually spent the Dragon Boat Festival making zongzi, as it was traditional for all the family to join in. 

“Just light a fire for me.” He grumbled, in no mood to verbally spar with his guardian.

“ _This time, I will. But you need to be finishing up quick and heading to bed, princess_.” The guardian snapped, before turning and leaving. Ping smiled gently at his retreating body. It was a relief to know the dragon was only unhappy because he was still trying to guard his charge.

“Want some help?” a soft voice cut through the tired fog in Ping’s mind.

“Captain Li!” he yelped as he jumped up then tripped over his own feet and landed on his butt with a thud.

“This shouldn’t be a solitary activity.” Li said, his lips twitching. Was he trying not to smile? Ping stared blankly at the man. 

After a few moments, Li frowned and shifted uncomfortably. A moment later he held out a hand.

“I’m sorry I’ve been… unkind to you.” Li apologised awkwardly. Ping then realised he had been staring gormlessly at the captain for a long time and reached out to grasp the man’s warm palm.

“Don’t worry. Everyone does it.” Ping replied, giving the man a self-depreciating smile.

“That doesn’t make it ok!” Li hissed. “If anything, that makes it worse. I have been doing this kind of thing all my life, even when I was little I played games similar to this with my father. I forget that most people, like you, probably had a normal childhood.”

“My childhood wasn’t normal. Your childhood wasn’t normal?” Ping glanced down at his hands. “Shall we make these then?”

“Indeed.” Li smiled at him, a full and brilliant expression that made Ping’s heart flutter to be on the receiving end of it. “My father has always planned for me to be in the army. When I was younger, he used to teach me how to work out the best strategies: how to spot both weak and strong points…”

“You didn’t play?” Ping asked, concern filling his gaze as he looked at the captain.

“I did play… just not the games I hear others talk about.”

“I didn’t play normal games either. I was sick a lot so my sister used to decide what we would play.” Ping crushed a bamboo leaf in his hands as he thought of his well-meaning sister.

“I have two younger brothers. One is seventeen and the other is eleven. Father… doesn’t play with them.”

“You mean everything he wants in a child he has found in you?” he wrapped straw around the leaf, trying to focus on what he was doing than seeming too intent on Captain Li’s words.

“I wish he hadn’t. I wish he would notice them. Those boys are wonderful.”

“So he was too interested in manipulating you and not interested enough in your brothers?” 

“When you phrase it like that it sounds terrible.” Li curled forwards, as though trying to protect himself from some invisible foe. Ping put his bundle down and pressed a hand to Li’s back. 

“Don’t worry Captain Li. You turned out pretty good.” Ping said, a smile twitching at his lips. 

“Ha! Thanks.” Li barked out a laugh. He reached a large hand out and set it on Ping’s skinny shoulder; it was really warm.

“It sounds like my father. He loves my sister more than me... it isn’t that he doesn’t love me, but I think he just didn’t know what to do with me, especially when I was younger.”

“Because you were sick?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you turned out pretty good too.” 

Ping pulled away. Self-doubt filled him as he thought about how poorly he was doing there.

“I’m pathetic. I can’t keep up with anyone and you won’t let me join in with certain things.”

“I forgot.” Li whispered, shame clearly etched on his face. “Come on. These need to steam and I need to begin making up for my terrible behaviour.”

Ping obeyed, standing and following Li through the dimming light to the armoury tent. 

“You’ll need a small bow…” Li muttered as they entered.

“They made me one.” Ping whispered, feeling a need to stay quiet.

Silently, Li located the bow that was labelled for Ping, grabbed a bow for himself and grabbed two quivers. His limbs began to tremble in anticipation. Was Captain Li going to show him how to shoot? How would he explain that he had already been practising over the past few weeks with Chien-Po? 

“This would ideally be done in better light…” Li said softly.

“I’ve been practising with Chien-Po!” Ping blurted out, having decided not to tell Li about that. He cringed and hunched forward, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hey, it’s ok.” Rough fingers pushed Ping’s chin up, and he slowly opened his eyes.

The dark eyes of Captain Li were focussed on his face, gazing at him with an intensity that implied there was a meaning behind the expression that Ping was apparently missing. Instead, all he could focus on was remembering to take another breath. After a long moment, Ping took a deep breath and forced a question out.

“W-Will you… Chien-Po… I know you didn’t want me doing archery so he shouldn’t have bothered with m-me… But…”

Li managed to tear his eyes away from Ping’s face, looking down at the equipment in his hands.

“I won’t complain that he was helping you until now. However, I am now your teacher and I would prefer you not to be the pupil of any other master… especially one who is not yet a master himself.”

Ping watched curiously as a deep flush spread across Li’s face.

“Of course not, Captain Li.” He said respectfully, bowing slightly.

“No.” Li put a hand out to Ping. “Outside our lessons I would not have us be master and apprentice. I have not been much of a commanding officer to you and barely deserve the title. However, I have been thinking about it while Chi-Fu was complaining and I decided that I can never expect people to do what I tell them to when they weren't raised in the same way. I have been stressed, and filled with fear about my father and I have unfairly taken it out on you. I have been a poor Captain, and a terrible officer.”

“Don’t say that!” Objected Ping, who was sure he couldn’t have coped half as well as Li had with the task he had been given.

“I must, because it is the truth. Called me Shang. After all, I call you Ping.”

“Shang.” The boy muttered softly, trying the name out. It was odd, but he would try.

“Ping.” Whispered Shang for a moment, his expression slightly vacant. “Um… Oh, archery. Come on. Let’s see how you are doing.”

The captain turned away again, and Ping grinned, even as he wondered how he would explain this to a protective guardian.


	6. The Fact is I was Napping, and so Gently You Came Rapping

Ping crept out of bed, moving quietly past his snoring guardian. It was three weeks since he had staring training on a morning with Shang. They weren’t even focussing on just archery. Shang seemed determined to increase Ping’s strength as well as his skill.

“How are you at swimming?” the man’s calm voice questioned softly as Ping emerged.

“I can swim.” The young man replied honestly. “But I get tired pretty fast.”

“Good. We can work on your stamina, but I wanted to check you could swim.”

“Is that what we’re doing today?” Ping asked, coming to stand beside the larger man as he scraped his hair back up into a knot on his head. 

“With everyone else. I’m going to send Chi-Fu off with those who can’t swim. He was bragging a few days ago about how amazing he is at that. He can teach others.”

“Oh, that will keep him quiet I’m sure.” Ping laughed brightly, imaging the displeasure Chi-Fu would express at doing something helpful for a change. His breath caught in his chest as Shang smirked at him.

“We’re jogging this morning. Come on.”

The two men began with stretching, gently warming their muscles up with deep breaths and confident movements. 

Jogging with Shang was night and day in comparison with jogging on his own. The two could only be compared in light of how different they were. For all he enjoyed the silence of jogging alone, the silence of jogging beside someone was calming in a way he hadn’t expected. The company inspired him to move that bit faster, continue that bit further; it took his mind off the burning of his lungs and the discomfort of his feet. While once Ping had staggered out of bed with the dawn, now he emerged with an eager smile on his face. 

Shang never spoke as he moved, but this Ping found a relief. He didn’t want to talk to the man while panting like a dog who had been playing in the sun. He wasn’t sure if the Captain was doing it intentionally or not, but the man never made Ping self-conscious. He matched his pace to Ping’s, slowing if the other man did without comment. He was calm when they jogged together, relaxed, as though moving without Chi-Fu as his shadow took a weight from him.

The only downside was in Ping’s dreams, where the man was beginning to feature more frequently. He didn’t often dream of the man in a sexual way, but their content was still intimate, thoughts of embraces and slow kisses, the feel of strong arms protecting him from the scorn of the world. He felt safe in his dreams, but he had found that waking up to begin the day with the captain of their company also gave him sanctuary from his anxieties and tribulations with regards to the other men. 

He was still struggling with them. Ling was still resentful for showing him up in training the other week when he had knocked the man out. Yao still growled at him and Ping had been unwilling to try and fix whatever problem he had to work out a friendship. Chien-Po often spoke with him in the evenings, before going to sit with his friends, and Ping tended to sit with Lei and Jian, the older men keeping an eye on the boy once they realised he was just a bit clumsy and didn’t piss people off purposefully. 

Ping’s eyes swept the horizon as he loped through the countryside, his breathing matched the pounding of his feet, deep and steady. Jogging was easier now he was disciplined in how he went about it, and he found the experience rewarding each and every time. 

\------

“The first thing we are doing today is catching fish.” Captain Li stated as they stood in ankle deep water. They had not yet separated the swimmers and the non-swimmers yet, and there were 3 men who looked decidedly nervous. 

“Then why are we in the water and not on the sides with nets and rods?” grumbled Yao softly.

“Good question, Yao.” As ever, Shang’s sharp ears had caught the muttered complaints. “We are catching the fish with our hands. Would you like to come up and demonstrate?”

Like a chastised boy, Yao crossed his arms and glared down at the flowing river. 

“The easiest way is to look for the shadows of the fish and observe which rocks it is the hide under. You then feel along the edges of the rock to try and capture one with your hands. However, I don’t want us catching fish like this. I want you to get the fish as the swim past you. It will take concentration and accuracy. It will take speed to grab the passing fish and dexterity to hold onto it.”

Ping frowned, shifting where he stood and trying to discreetly scrape the small pebbles out from under his feet to make stand more comfortable. He hoped no one was noticing the muddy clouds that were billowing out from his feet in the water.

Soon, they all moved off to stand in their own spot, away from others to try and avoid scaring the fish with too much movement. Naturally, Yao followed Ping, the smirk on his face hinting at the trouble he planned to cause.

Mushu slipped out and into the water, his loud sigh at the relief of cool water on the hot day caused Yao’s head to turn, and Ping resisted glaring in his guardian’s direction.

Concentration, accuracy, speed and dexterity. With these in mind, Ping blocked out the distraction around him and focussed on the water, eyes flitting about for the shadowy hint of a fish. 

He saw something darker than the sandy coloured pebbles of the river bed and his hand shot out. Concentration and speed where there. So was accuracy, he grinned to acknowledge as his hand touch something softer than the hard rocks below his feet. Dexerity came into play as he grasped the fish and pulled, keeping a tight grip on the wet surface.

Beside him, Yao yelped...

Beside him, Yao’s body disappeared under the water as the man’s foot emerged in Ping’s grasp. He dropped it gracelessly, and sloshed quickly through the river to deeper water. Maybe Yao wouldn’t know who to blame.

Mushu popped up beside him, three wriggling fish in his possession.

“ _Here you go, Princess_.” He said quietly. The nickname had come back when Ping had started spending time with Shang, much to the dragon’s disapproval. However, the young man still didn’t mind it. He’d been called worse by both people in his town and in the army camp. 

“Just one.” Ping didn’t want to cheat, but Yao had just righted himself and was turning to glare and the slight man. When Mushu disappeared, Ping looked up to see Chien-Po smile at him before crouching down to try and collect a fish of his own. Off to his side, Shang was giving Ping a proud look.

Ping grasped the fish in both hands, uncomfortable as he held the evidence of his deception. He hated lying, and now Shang would think he had caught this on his own.

\------

His hope that Yao would be unaware was shattered as the bruiser later stepped up his tactics. They were now using staves in their martial arts and two weeks later there had yet to be a time that Yao or Ling had not tripped him up. And the marks he gained from landing time and again on his arse had nothing on those he got while sparring Yao, who always managed to partner him. 

\------

Still, their pranks had nothing on his own stupidity. That was a fact he mused on as the medic held a cool, damp cloth to his chest and another one to the side of his face. 

“Next time, you let it fall.” Growled Shang as he sat beside the young man. 

“It wasn’t like I meant to!” Argued Ping, unhappy to be seen as such a fool.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with the captain here.” The medic piped up, a fixed smile on his face. “Next time your cannon falls over, you let it fall.”

Ping kept quiet. Ling might have knocked the stand out from under his cannon, but Ping was the one foolish enough to grab it. There had been no one in front of the firing line. No one would have been injured if he had just let it go.

Their disapproval had nothing on Mushu’s though. The dragon had simply said “ _We’ll talk later._ ” He had then headed off to the tent as Shang had come running over to check on his young student. 

“Right. Let me apply this salve.” 

“I’ll do it.” Said Shang. “If that’s all then a few other men were injured by their own stupidity.”

There was silence in the tent as the medic gathered his supplies and slipped out. Once the flap had returned to its position, Ping looked up at his Captain.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly, eyes tracking the movements of the large hand as it came to rub the slave in.

“I know. I don’t meant to be angry.”

“What, you’re just worried?” Ping asked sarcastically, repeating a phrase his sister often uttered.

“Exactly. It’s either shout or cry and I don’t remember the last time I cried so…”

“Really?” Ping sighed as the cool paste was rubbed in with small circles down to his jawline. It lifted the pain quickly and a sleepiness began to take over him. “How bizarre.”

“Hey, are you meant to sleep in here? Come on, back to your own tent.”

“The medic might have more instruction for me.” Objected Ping, though he pressed closer when Shang’s arms came up around him.

“I’ll collect it for you.”

“Right.” Ping’s eyes dipped as he relaxed, free of enough pain that exhaustion was setting in.

“Should you be so tired? Is the paste that good?” Shang sounded concerned, but it barely penetrated the comfortable bubble that encased the young man.

“He gave me something to chew first. I think it’s meant to do this.” Was it? Ping couldn’t really remember. He fell asleep in the tight embrace of his captain long before the man picked him up, carrying Ping back to his own tent, still located on the edge of camp.

While Ping was utterly unaware of the events that took place after he dozed off, his dragon hid out of sight, watching carefully as Li handled his ward. He wasn’t glaring, but there was a curious expression on his face as he watched Li tug the boy’s boots off and cover him with a blanket.


	7. Deep into that Darkness Peering

It was only three weeks later when Ping found he was being used as an example of how to do things right in numerous activities. Shang seemed to be impressed with his prowess in archery, close combat and even in basic survival skills. 

The difference it made was obvious, Ping blossomed under the attention. Lei and Jian commented that he was doing well, and even Chi-Fu could only find one fault; his strength. Ping was quick, agile and a fast thinker, but he was still weaker than many of the men, and he didn’t have the body weight to make up the difference in areas such as pulling gear across camp, or helping to move the carts without the horses attached. 

The smile that graced his face when he wasn’t working helped warm others to him, and for the first time in the months he had been there, people were finally including Ping as one of them. There was a suspicious voice in the back of his mind that sounded oddly like his father and it warned him that the others were only including him because he was so popular with the Captain now. However, Ping had a lot of practice at ignoring what his father said, and even though ignoring this voice took more effort, he still managed. 

As he sat one evening beside Chien-Po, he stared at the arrow that was still lodged into the shaft. It had been there for some time now and Ping thought about it. He needed discipline and strength to reach the arrow. Ping supposed he could reach it without the added weights, the wood was notched and uneven, finding grips to pull himself up wouldn’t be too hard, but he would need some sort of sling across his back to bring the weights up too.

The answer came to him as he drifted between asleep and awake, half-dreaming of running through a forest in little but a sling. He could use a sling to help pull himself up a tree. Perhaps, in the same way he could knot the weights around the shaft and pull himself up to the top.

Would it work though? In theory, yes. But Ping knew he wasn’t as strong as other men. He didn’t want to fall and have Shang shout at him again.

But the thought of Shang clouded his mind. The man was always worried about him, even though he had proven himself to be capable of as much as the other men. Maybe this would help Shang accept that Ping was an able soldier now, untried in war though he was. 

Slipping out of bed, Ping picked up his boots and clothing. He dressed outside the tent, hoping to leave Mushu sleeping. His guardian worried nearly as much as Shang did, ever determined to spot any problems before they arose. Ping wanted to do this alone. He wanted to prove to Shang, Mushu, Yao, and everyone else that he was good; no, better than good, or average, or acceptable. He wanted to be one of the best. 

He thought of stories reaching his family, telling of his abilities. He thought of his father opening a letter and reading that Ping had been amazing, and how his father would know that Ping was no longer a sickly child, but a man; for, whatever he had been before arriving, this training camp had made him into a man, and he wanted people to know. 

The weights were stored in a box inside a tent, but thankfully no one was there. He pulled them out and frowned at how heavy they were. He had forgotten. Regardless, the young man decided to move before he talked himself out of this. Wrapping the fabric into a knot, Ping took a deep breath and got into position.

It was a long way up.

He grasped the fabric tightly and lifted the weights to rest against the wood. 

“One step at a time.” He murmured, before setting off.

It was slow, and it was difficult. The golden circles seemed to weigh more as he got higher up, and his muscles burned with the effort. 

“I’ll make… them… proud.” He gasped, trying not to notice the pains in his lungs, or his back, or his arms… He kept his shoulders taut and gripped the wood between his knees. 

“Go on, Ping!” Came a cry from beneath him. It startled the young man, and he slipped slightly, but he was determined. Bringing his leg up again, he continued to shuffle upwards. 

“Shit, yeah!” shouted someone else, and Ping recognised Jian’s voice. He grinned slightly, little more than a twitch of his lips in reality but the encouragement helped lessen the struggle. 

The arrow was in sight now, and Ping knew he could do it. Just this last little bit. He had to be high up, but there would be no looking down yet. The best way to get the arrow would be to sit on top of the pole and pull it out from there; to wait until he wasn’t balancing on the side of a vertical drop. 

It meant he had to go past the arrow; he had to pull his body back out of the way until he could get his arms on top of the pole and pull himself up the rest of the way. 

For a moment, he lay flopped over the top, his belly on the weights that sat on the wood, still attached to his wrists. Everything hurt. He whimpered for a moment, then listened past the roaring in his ears. People were cheering. 

Ping shifted so that he could sit at the top and pull the arrow out. It took his breath away. They were cheering for him. He tossed the arrow to the ground, grinning as it landed less than a metre away from Chi-Fu, who had been scowling up at him. 

Yao and Ling were yelling for him, punching the air with a grin on their faces. Beside them stood Chien-Po, and Ping nodded his head to his friend. 

Shang was there too, clapping his hands with a wide smile on his face. As the sun erupted from the clouds behind him, Ping felt a pleasure beyond what he had imagined. This felt good. 

Also, a little unnerving, he mused as the wind started to pick up. It would have been nice while he had climbed up to have a cooling breeze, but with sweat sticking to his skin, Ping just felt cold. 

Turning, he rather gracelessly began his way back down again, only to be met with embraces as his feet touched the ground. 

“Well done.” Shang whispered into his ear as he pulled Ping to his chest. “You were brilliant.”

Joy heated Ping’s face and he flushed deeply as Chien-Po pulled him away from Shang and into another embrace. 

“When you prepare a meal, time must be taken. If you heat meat too quickly or too close to the fire, the outside can burn while the inside remains unchanged.” The large man beamed down at him. “You may have been raw to start with, but I believe you are cooked all the way through now.”

“Thank you.” Ping whispered, a gentle warmth filling him as he understood what the man was trying to convey, that he had come along way and done well for travelling the longer path. 

\------

Eventually, Ping managed to settle in the calm waters of the lake they had been using to wash in. The water was still cool, but even as the evening sun set, the temperature was a relief in comparison. 

“Hi. I mean, hello. How are you?” Shang stood by the bank, still fully dressed. He looked strangely awkward as he shifted from one foot to the other, rubbing his neck. 

“Hey. I’m… sore.” Ping admitted. He could still feel his muscles, and knew the ache would only increase as time went on. 

“You did really good!” Shang blurted out, and Ping frowned. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, trying to match this man up with the confident commander he saw every day. “You look… nervous.”

“Yeah. I just… wanted to talk. But you’re undressed and this is…” he trailed off and Ping stared at him curiously. 

“Then go get a towel and join me.” Bemused, Ping watched as his commanding officer and friend hurried off to do that. 

He sighed and looked over at Mushu, who was glaring at him from across the water. 

“Yes?”

“ _You be careful with him. No letting him get too close when you’ve got nothing but your pretty face on._ ” The dragon warned him with a sniff. 

“Mushu!” Blood heated his face, but it rushed lower as well as he imagined getting close to Shang without clothing. “How am I supposed to think of anything else now?”

But the dragon didn’t have time to reply as Shang returned, a towel wrapped around his waist and not a stitch on otherwise. He didn’t even seem to mind his feet getting muddy. Ping averted his eyes quickly, wanting to watch the man enter the water but not knowing if he could handle it.

“I’m so pleased.” Shang said softly, as he made his way over to the smaller man. “You were amazing to watch as you made your way up.”

“Really?” Ping asked, breathless. He shifted in the water, but didn’t back away as Shang got close. 

“Yes. I’ll admit you’re still a bit clumsy, and watching you get off that pole and head back down was even more nerve-wreaking than coming out to find you already half way up there!”

Ping wrapped his arms around his belly as he waited, unsure where Shang was going with this. 

“But, it’s more than that. You’re more than just your new-found abilities and your gracelessness. You’re a… well, a sweet man.” Shang grinned awkwardly at him, pausing in his stuttering speech. 

“Oh.” Ping interrupted, then stopped. He didn’t know what to say to that. 

“I… well, you are determined. And thoughtful. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you over the time we’ve gotten to know each other; you always try cheer me up when I’m down… When Chi-Fu is complaining about yet another thing.”

Ping’s heart fluttered in a way he hadn’t expected, his breath caught in his throat, halting any words he might have spoken. He stood and stared as Shang leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

He stood staring as the man turned and hurried away. 

He stood staring far longer than he ought to, mouth agape in the expanding darkness, his heart pounding in his chest as his mind replayed those few moments, the gentle press of soft lips surrounded by scratchy skin.

Eventually, he responded to Mushu increasingly frustrated cries and left the water, a smile on his face.


	8. All My Soul Within Me Burning

As Shang Li polished his troops into a functioning portion of the army that his father would be proud of, Ping began mentioning the mid-autumn festival. Surprisingly, it was Chi-Fu who insisted on everyone celebrating it, with all the troops in the camp taking time to join in and help with preparations. 

Chi-Fu put real effort into the festival, but he explained to Ping in a quiet moment that the farms near his town had had trouble with the harvest a few times when he had been young, so they had put real emphasis on the festival. 

Ping thought of Mulan as he watched the men dancing and playing music. She loved dancing during the festival, and every year she always ignored to curious glances of the men in their village, eager to dance with her. She had always danced with Ping. Would she be overrun with invitations this year, unable to reject them in favour of her twin? Or would she have no one to dance with after the disaster with the match maker?

“You are meant to be having dinner with us by light of the moon, not sulking over here.” Shang sat down next to Ping, and despite his light tone, he looked concerned. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, his eyes burning in response to Shang’s appearance. He’d been holding his tears back.

“I know it’s not the same as appreciating the moon and eating with family, but… well…” Shang rubbed his neck awkwardly, but Ping smiled gently up at him.

“Thanks. It was my sister I was thinking of.” He dropped his eyes to his lap. “She didn’t exactly impress the match maker before I left. I hope she has someone to dance with this year.”

“From what you’ve told me, Ping, your sister is a strong woman.” He pressed a hand to his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“It’s been so long since I last saw her. Half a year…” 

“I’m sure she wouldn’t recognise you.” Shang grinned broadly at him. “You’ve come out your shell.”

“I could say the same of you.” Ping smirked, sitting up as he spoke. “You are a different man to the one your father left behind.”

“I haven’t changed.” Shang looked puzzled.

“Sure you have.” Ping laughed. The difference was night and day to him. “You’re so much more confident than you were. And far less awkward… well, mostly.”

Shang was hunched slightly, still rubbing his neck, but he looked pleased with Ping’s words.

“Come on.” Shang stood up, holding a hand out as he smiled. Together the men headed back over to the others and sat down. 

Chi-Fu was still trying to round up everyone so the festival could run according to the schedule he had prepared. As everyone gathered around, Ping raised his eyes to the moon. It was a clear night, and the temperature was cool, but Ping was comfortable. His mind drifted back to his sister. They’d never been parted for so long.

“Although I am far from home, I have conviction in my mind.” He whispered softly, and even though he saw Shang look at him, he kept his eyes on the moon. “I wish my family happiness and blessings forever.”

By his side, Shang grasped his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“I am glad you are with me on the full moon night.” Whispered Shang softly, hotly in his ear. “Happy Mid-Autumn Day, my dearest.”

Ping flushed and turned to stare, wide-eyed, at Shang. He didn’t move back, so Ping could feel his breath on his face. Hidden in his tunic, Mushu growled, but Ping paid him no mind. His heart pounded in his chest as heat flooded his body. 

“It’s a shame there are no children.” Sighed Chi-Fu, sitting heavily beside Shang, which caused him to jolt away. “I like the lanterns they make.”

“ _Want me to bite him for you?_ ” muttered Mushu, mischief in his voice.

“No.” breathed Ping. “Besides, I thought you didn’t like Shang.”

“ _You like him._ ” Mushu still didn’t sound thrilled, “ _And he’d be a fool if he wasn’t mad about you. If I can’t get my… I mean, I’m less bothered about honour than I am about your happiness._ ”

“Thanks Mushu.” He murmured again, grinning happily. His eyes moved back to the moon, and he felt hope.

It was typical that the night of celebration ended in the men arguing with Chi-Fu. Ping sat to the side, half-dozing against Shang as Yao tripped up the scribe. He tumbled to the ground, flushing angrily as laughter came from the men who were still drinking. 

“What are you going to do?” taunted Ling, drink apparently getting the better of him. 

“Yeah. We’re better than you. We’re ready for war.” Yao joked, and Ping could recognise the words as a joke now. It seemed that Chi-Fu didn’t though.

“Ready for war? Ready? You’re immature. You’re pathetic.” He rose to his feet, trembling in his distress. “You’ll never go to war. I won’t allow it. You’ll cause nothing but trouble.”

As the argument began to escalate, Ping stood up, needing to do something. Behind him, Shang slumped to the floor, fast asleep.

“H-Hey.” Ping shouted, not willing to throw himself into the fray, but not wanting anyone to come away injured. “Stop.”

“Piss off, Ping. He’s gotta pay!” Yao snarled, taking a step forwards. 

“I- I think it’s probably time for bed.” But he took a deep breath and stepped between Chi-Fu and Yao. He felt faint with fear as he looked into Yao’s angry face.

“Look here-” spat Yao, grabbing the front of Ping’s clothing and pulling him down.

“Hey!” Yelled a voice, and Shang was sitting up, a scowl on his face as he took in the situation. “Let. Go.” 

“This time.” Grumbled Yao, but he obeyed his commanding officer. 

“Bed. Everyone.” He snapped, and the men left quite quickly.

“Thank you.” Said Chi-Fu, drawing himself up to his full height in an attempt to look dignified, but the result of a night of drinking and an argument that had started to get physical was evident, so he hurried away.

“What happened?” Asked Shang, eyes flitting over Ping’s face, searching for an injury.

“Nothing, it's fine. I just think everyone drank too much.” The people in his village tended to be more boisterous when they had had a drink, it was no surprise that it had happened here too. 

“Thank goodness.” Murmured Shang, leaning down to once again brush his lips over Ping’s cheek.

The alcohol in Ping’s system must have made him braver than he usually was, because the young man grumbled, “Not again. Come on!” then wrapped his hands around Shang’s hand and pulled him down.

Their lips met in a kiss that shocked his system. It was far more exciting than he could have imagined. The gasp the other man let out, the way he pulled Ping against his chest, the moan and the wet slide of lips… from a distance Ping had always thought these things looked a little bizarre, and not really all that interesting. However, experiencing them was an entirely different thing. Shang’s scent filled his lungs, seeping into his mind and wiping his thoughts. He pressed closer, body burning as he felt Shang rub hands up and down his back… and then lower. 

He pulled away, arousal taking hold of his whole body, but fear making itself known. He wondered if he was trembling.

“S-Sorry.” He said, hoping he hadn’t insulted the man.

“T-Too fast? You kissed me, so I know it wasn’t that, you know… that it was me you were kissing… that was the problem.” Shang looked awkward, and he was shifting uncomfortably. However, Ping didn’t dare look down in case he saw evidence of an erection in the Captain. He needed a moment to get used to things.

“S-Sorry.” He repeated, jerkily nodding his head.

“It’s fine.” Taking a deep breath, Shang leaned down and this time, he pressed a gentle kiss to Ping’s lips. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Stumbling into bed, cock hard and utterly distracting, Ping sent Mushu away for a while to take care of himself. He had to admit though; his heart, his mind, even his _soul_ were burning in response to Shang as much as his cock was. It wasn’t just the man’s appearance that made him stir, after all. Shang Li was cementing his place in Ping's mind as perfection, even with his flaws.


	9. 'Tis the Wind and Nothing More

It was a few days later, after his morning jog with Shang, that Ping came back to see the camp being dismantled.

“What’s going on?” he asked, confused.

“I… have been meaning to tell you. We’ve been sent orders to move out.”

“We’re going to war?” Ping’s stomach dropped away and he swayed on his feet. Reality came crashing down on him and his legs gave way.

“Ping?” Shang fell to his knees beside him.

“I- I know we are in the army… this is what we’re here for.” He said shakily, trying to take deep and calming breaths. 

“Exactly.” Shang didn’t look well either, but he held his composure better.

“I mean… I have to remember, I’m here instead of my father.” Ping held this thought in his mind. “He’s at home, safe because I am here. That’s important.”

“Yes it is. And you are young, fast and very able.” Shang gripped his shoulders. “You’ll be fine. I won’t let you die.”

“If I’m injured and you need to go on, you’ll leave me behind.” Ping corrected sternly. He may be afraid of dying, but China was more important than he was. Shang couldn’t slow the company down for him.

“What if it’s me injured?” Shang asked with a shaky smile.

“Then I’ll tell Chi-Fu to leave you behind.” With plenty of supplies so he could survive till he was rescued… “Promise me?”

“No. I can’t leave you.”

“I’m not even injured yet... I might not be… Promise me?” Ping shifted to his knees, gazing imploringly into Shang’s eyes. “Please?”

“Only if I had to, and I’d come back for you.” 

“Good to hear.” Ping gave him a small smile, before kissing him.

He stood up, still trembling slightly but determined to do his part. He decided to forgo washing for the moment, as he was aware that packing away all the tents would just leave him sweating again anyway.

“Mushu?” Ping hissed as he began to empty tents. 

“ _What’s up, Ping?_ ” Asked the guardian as he rolled up sleep mats, the cricket jumping around beside him.

“Why are we going to the front already? I thought Chi-Fu said we weren’t ready.”

“ _Well…_ ” There was a silence as Mushu focussed on tying up the mat. “ _You’re ready for war. A letter was delivered ordering you guys to the front lines._ ”

“Front lines.” Murmured Ping, not noticed Mushu’s careful wording in his misery.

He would have happily remained here, in this little world that was so separate from everything else. The most contact they had with the outside was when food was delivered, and to be honest, Ping really didn’t want to leave this little bubble. 

“ _Just think, the sooner you beat the Huns, the sooner you can go home_.” Mushu said, in a strangely earnest voice.

“Home…” he repeated in a gentle voice. He missed Mulan, that was true, and his Grandmother. His parents though… He had a feeling it was disappointment he felt when he acknowledged the fact that he didn’t miss them. He didn’t miss his Mother’s sighs as she looked at him and he wasn’t what she wanted, or his Father’s grumbling as he failed to accomplish what the other men in his village could do. 

His Grandmother was wonderful though. She always said he could be whatever he wanted to be, do whatever he wanted to do. She had said, in the hours before the conscription notices had arrived, that just because Mulan and Ping didn’t match their parents’ ideas of successful, or even their village’s view of successful, it didn’t mean they were a failure. It had been just after Mulan’s trouble with the matchmaker, and Ping rather agreed. Mulan was amazing, just because she didn’t get along with one uptight woman, didn’t mean she was destined to misery.

He began to work harder, his mind filled with thoughts of his family. What would they say when he told them he had found love during the mid-autumn festival? After all, that was a time for true love and just because Shang was a man, didn’t mean Ping had it in him to be ashamed of him. It was easier to defy society if it was keeping someone else happy.

“Ping?” Jian called from across the field. “Can we use your horse to move these cannons?”

“Sure. You’ll find Tianma… over there.” He pointed over to the tree where his horse was bent over, most likely eating again.

“Thanks.” 

Looking around, Ping saw that they had made short work of packing up, and he grimaced. 

“I’m not ready, Mushu.” He whispered, watching as the tent canvas was folded. 

“ _You’ll do fine, kid_.” He whispered. “ _You’re not alone, remember?_ ”

\------

The journey was not easy, but they chatted to keep their spirits up. Ping was feeling more accepted by the men, not only Chien-Po, Lei and Jian, but Ling and Yao had finally warmed up to him. To be honest, it was something of a relief to be able to talk to them without fear of being beaten up.

Their conversations drifted from one thing to another, all the men desperately avoiding the topic of war. Not one single person was excited. 

However, it was when they passed the fields where the rice was being harvested that another topic of conversation cropped up.

“You know what we need to do?” Asked Ling, his eyes bright.

“Now what?” growled Yao, cracking his knuckles as he glared at his cheerful friend.

“We need to remember what we are fighting for.” He said with a nod.

“What?” Ping raised his brow, his mind drifting to his Father, and his need to keep the man safe for his sister’s sake. 

“Yep. Think of a girl worth fighting for.”

“But, I do not have a girlfriend.” Chien-Po pointed out softly.

“When we get back, we’ll be heroes. That’ll make a difference.” Ling smirked. “I know what I want.”

“Do I want to ask?” Yao muttered to himself.

“Paler than the moon. Eyes that shine like stars.” Ling sighed, eyes glazing over as he imagined his dream woman.

“A girl who’ll find my scars impressive.” Yao said, his mind apparently drifting. “She’ll drool over my strength.”

“What about you?” Ping asked Chien-Po, noticed he had a dreamy look on his face.

“She can look however she wants to.” He said with a shrug. “As long as she can cook, then I’ll be happy.”

“I’ve a girl back home.” Chi-Fu stated as he passed them. “She’s different to all other woman.”

“Yeah, cos she loves him.” Muttered Ling, at the same time as Yao stated, “It must be his mother.”

“Come on guys.” Groaned Ping, hoping they wouldn’t start mocking Chi-Fu again.

“Bet the girls were all in love with you, back home.” Snorted Yao.

“Not as such, no.” Ping sighed, his hand sweaty around Tianma’s rein. It was a cool day, but they had been marching for a week now, and Ping found the constant walking heated him up. 

“Not that he’d be looking at any girls.” Ling mused as he ambled along beside his friend. “Not with Captain Li to lie with.”

“What?” Ping startled and looked up, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“You don’t think we missed it, right? You share a tent with him.” Ling gave Ping a puzzled look. “And you cuddle together all the time.”

“You… don’t mind?”

“Everyone here is the closest I have to family right now. You want to say ‘fuck it’ to being discreet then, feel free.” Ling shrugged. 

“Right.” He breathed, mind jolted from the boredom he had been feeling earlier.

“Urgh, how much further do we have to go?” whinged Yao into the silence that had grown. 

“I don’t even know where we’re going.” Ping fought a pout. He had asked, but Shang wouldn’t tell him. “I’d guess up into the mountains though. He put the warmest blankets to the top of the pile this morning.”

“I think I’d like to be cool again.” Chien-Po informed them, and as they continued to put one burning foot in front of the other, Ping agreed in some ways, but he didn’t want to reach the mountains. He didn’t want to continue on over them.

“I wonder what we’ll see when we get there.” Ping spoke aloud the words they had been avoiding, his fear forcing them out before he could catch himself. 

“Maybe nothing but the wind blowing through an empty space.” Replied Ling, without hope in his voice. The men frowned as they kept marching, dread anticipation holding their tongues.


	10. Perched above my Chamber Door... Perched, and Sat, and Nothing More

And still the walking went on. The march towards the front was a long, weary thing. The days were hot and the nights were cold as time wore on and they slowly began to move up into the mountains. Ping couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had crept up on him every time he stopped long enough to think though. Like an ominous cloud that threatened to storm on them, Ping's discomfort was there as a constant, unwelcome presence. 

The journey could have been enjoyable otherwise, as the sky was bright and the patch work of paddy fields that were over looked by the villages that were dotted along reminded him of the home he had long since left behind. 

The men were still complaining about the length of their journey, but Ping was aware that Shang had been incredibly quiet as they trekked along. Handing Tianma's reins to Chien-Po, the young man jogged to the head of their company to walk beside Shang's horse. 

"How are you feeling?" He called up to his love, resting on hand on Yeung's side as he watched.

"Me? I'm fine. Ready to be at the front and- ... I'm fine."

"Shang." Ping softly sighed, reaching a hand out the touch the man's leg. 

Shang responded by tugging Ping up to sit in front of him. Once the young man's back was pressed to the broad chest, then Ping felt himself start to relax for the first time since they had set out.

"We should have had word. Months of training and we only had one message." The quiver in Shang's voice expressed the fear that his face hid. 

Ping brought his legs up and shifted around in the embrace so that he could hold Shang. A flurry of thoughts whirled through his mind, but none of them struck Ping as something to bring comfort. The training he had undergone had given Ping a confidence in his body that he had never before possessed, but he still tended to stumble over his words,thoughts falling unchecked from his lips when he allowed his nervous brain the chance to speak.

So Ping held his tongue as he pressed close to Shang.

After all, what could he say? 'I'm sure it's not so bad? Maybe he just forgot? You worry too much?' Ping wished he could ask Mushu for help, but the guardian was sleeping in the wagon, hidden away from the eyes of the soldiers.

"Thank you." Shang whispered softly as they rode on.

"What for?" Ping murmured, the steady trot of Yeung causing his eyes to droop.

If there was a reply, Ping missed it as he fell into an exhausted sleep. 

\------

"Ping? Hey, wake up?"

Shang's voice was warm against his ear as he roused Ping, the strong arms that had held him now pushing him back.

"Shang?" Ping murmured, peeling his eyes open and rubbing at the grit in them. 

"Hey, sleepy head!" Shang chuckled, rubbing a hand through Ping's scruffy hair before he slid off his horse. Ping followed quietly, looking around at the men who were busy making camp. Chien-Po caught his eye and gave him a gentle smile.

Shang took his hand and lead him off to the side, hidden behind not only the tents that had been erected, but one of the trees that they were likely using as shelter from the biting wind.

"Feeling better?" Shang asked, cupping Ping's face between his palms.

"I hope people aren't too annoyed I fell asleep."

"I believe you're on first watch." laughed Shang, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

Ping chased him as he pulled away, tugging him down to kiss him properly. The young man enjoyed kissing more than he had ever expected, the wet slide of lips was far more arousing than disgusting and the overwhelming feel of Shang as he pushed Ping against the trunk of the tree gave a feeling of safety that he hadn't experienced anywhere else.

Ping had never kissed anyone else like this in his life, and although he had more enthusiasm than skill, Shang didn't seem to mind; in fact, Shang rather seemed to enjoy teaching Ping how to give and receive this type of affection. They had spent several evening on the journey out to the front wrapped up in each other, Ping in Shang's lap with the older man's hands roaming his body. It was, to be truthful, thrilling to know that someone found him so attractive, especially after years of his mother quietly lamenting his clumsiness and lack of interest in others. 

Not that they had gone any further. Not only was Ping aprehensive about taking the next step, but Shang refused to do so while they were travelling to war. The captain enjoyed inventing fantasies about how he would have Ping though, and he would whisper them into the darkness as they lay together at night. 

Ping's favourite by far was not a story of soft romance in a comfortable home in the city, nor did it take place in the safety of their very own cottage in the country. Rather, Ping liked to hear about a future where he had taken Chi-Fu's job and travelled as a scribe where ever Shang went, where they had a future together even as they rocked each other to release in a tent. Shang preferred to dream of a home in a small town, where he could teach boys to fight and Ping could get involved with the town itself, often they had their siblings nearby. Thankfully though, Shang had never suggested that they return to Ping's village together and brave his parents' disapproval. 

"Come on." Shang pulled back, a grin on his face as he looked down at Ping's flushed face. "We should get back and help."

"When are you on watch?" Ping asked as he turned and began to walk towards the fire that had been set.

"With you." Shang slipped his hand into Ping's as they moved. "It's cold at night, I'm not sleeping alone."

The younger smiled, but said nothing as he sat down to help strip the flesh from the rabbits that had been caught. The nights were getting colder and most of the men were sharing now. 

" _He'd better learn to keep his hands to himself_." Mushu muttered as he slid into Ping's tunic, his small body colder than the man had expected of a fire-breathing guardian. 

"Don't you go biting him." he breathed as he gripped his blade.

" _I'll leave that to you_." snorted the dragon, his misery evident in his voice.

"He makes me happy." Ping tried to placate his guardian, not wanting to piss off his ancestors by annyoing their representative too much.

" _Yeah. We'll see_." Mushu grumbled, but he spoke no more on the matter.

Ping sighed as he chucked meat into the pot on the fire. The bad feeling hadn't dissapated; he still felt like he was waiting for something bad to happen, and looking up into the wondered if it had to do with what they would find when they approached the main army.

Ping didn't know what they would be coming up against; he had no experience in anything like this to imagine what might be waiting for them other than the cold. It had to be worse to Shang though, who had both been in battle before and was close to at least one person out there; Ping hoped that as they marched closer to his father, the inauspicious air would thin out into nothing. 

He had a feeling that it wouldn't.


	11. On the Morrow He Will Leave Me, as My Hopes Have Flown Before

Over the next few days, Ping managed to enjoy himself. The men were grouchy, all complaining about their aching feet and weary muscles, but he didn't care. Never in his life had Ping felt so included in a group. 

He thought of Mulan and her determination to have him join in. However, neither of them had ever had much interest in other children. Both those on the farm and those in the town had always considered the siblings as odd, and they had never bothered to hide their opinions. 

This was different. Here, Ping marched alongside the men, listening to the chatter; he had no hesitation to say his own piece on certain topics. There was more than one farmer with them, and Ping happily discussed what happened on his parents' farm and what he had observed. 

“I told you.” Chien-Po was laughing. “I do not mind appearance.”

“Beauty on the inside?” Ping was grinning as he guided Tianma along.

“A kind woman who can cook. You cannot judge flavour on the look of a meal. Fancy toppings may mask flaws.”

“Flaws can be burnt away with spice.” smirked Ling, winking at Ping when he looked over. The younger man blushed, his own imagination quickly filling in blanks.

“Spice should only be used to enhance the meal itself.”

“I don't know... I like my food hot.” Ling objected, but everyone was grinning as they trekked through the snow.

“Recipes call for more than one ingredient. Even a good lump of ginger does not make up a meal if there is little else to it.”

“Are they still talking about women? Or are they actually on about food now?” Ping asked Yao curiously, wondering if he had lost track of the conversation. 

“I think it's nice they have such clear ideas.” Lei muttered. “I want someone who will make me happy, but I could not begin to say what qualities she may possess.”

“I don't want any woman.” Ping sighed, eyes on the snow as he pushed his way through. It was starting to get deep.

“Don't your parents expect you to wed?”

“I hope not. They've never mentioned it to me. Grandmother said it's because they don't like to view us as adults yet.” Neither had been excited for Mulan's visit to the matchmaker. He wondered if they had been expected Mulan to make a mess of things, or if it was because they still viewed their children as young.

“What the...”

The marching had stopped, and Ping raised his eyes to see what was holding them up.

There was clearly fire before them, though they were upwind of the smoke, the orange glow from the distant flames was unmistakable. Ping handed Tianma's rein to Lei before pushing forwards. 

“It's so quiet.” he whispered, wide eyes taking in the burning village. There were no cries, no shouts of panic... there was a stillness to the air, despite the crackling of the fire as it burnt down buildings. “Where is everyone?”

The only reply was a crash as a wooden beam fell. 

“Search for survivors!” Shang instructed, the concern visible on his face for just a moment before it was hidden behind the face of Captain Li. 

Ping stepped back and took his horse's reins before walking into the village. The remains of buildings nearby were smouldering, the fires mostly faded, but Ping could feel the heat left over. Further in, the flames still licked at homes. 

Survivors... No voices permeated the thick air. He could not even hear animals... Ping walked softly through the remains, the crunch of the snow audible in the silent shock of the men. Passing through a stone archway, he crouched down.

A doll.

It was a child's toy, tiny and undamaged. With trembling fingers, Ping reached out. 

“What happened here?” he breathed as he straightened up and looked around at the charred ruins.

“ _Let... Let's just keep looking._ ” Even Mushu sounded shaken. 

“Captain!” Chi-Fu shouted, all confidence knocked from his voice as he pointed down.

Ping let go of Tianma and took a deep breath. Shang's face had gone pasty; it couldn't be good. As he approached, Chien-Po came up a bank with a helmet cradled in his large hands. Ping forced his feet to move, a sickly feeling churning in his stomach even before he looked down at the scene.

“No.” Ping gaped at the horrific sight.

Much like the rest of the village, the wagons of the army still glowed with dying flame. Even upwind, Ping could smell the foul stench that rose from the plain. The battle had been fought with both sword and fire, and it was clear from the bodies strewn across the snow that General Li's forces had not been enough. 

A metallic hiss rang through the air, and Ping's heart ached to see Shang drop to his knees. He moved slowly, unsure of how his love might react; grief made people act strangely. As he got there, Shang was getting to his feet and turning away.

“I'm sorry.” he said, louder than he had spoken since arriving. 

Shang didn't reply though, simply grabbing Ping's shoulders and staring into his eyes for a moment. The younger man didn't know what the captain was looking for, or if he found it, because a moment later, Shang had let go and headed back over to the troops. Ping followed, tucking the doll into his armour. He couldn't leave something that represented innocence behind with only dead soldiers for company. 

“The Huns are moving quickly. We'll make better time to the Imperial City through the Tung Shao Pass. We're the only hope for the Emperor now. Move out!”

As they headed further up into the mountains, Shang was a silent leader as he sat tall upon Yeung; it was a sight Ping could barely take in. Mostly, he kept his eyes on the ground in front of him, one hand tight around Tianma's rein and the other out in front as he made his legs move. 

For all their efforts to build up strength and stamina, Ping felt as weak as ever. He climb was steep and Shang didn't slow down. His attention was clearly on the Huns, and gaining vengeance for his father. Pin's thoughts circled Shang. 

He had no idea how to comfort someone in this situation. He felt helpless as he considered the fact that Shang had been his father's favourite son, the one he had loved and believed in. Ping had no idea what it was like to be held in such light, only to have the light so violently extinguished. 

If anything, he'd probably do better empathising with Shang's brothers. Seventeen and eleven, he remembered. One year younger than him, and seven years younger than him, and neither one considered important by General Li. 

He wasn't sure how old Shang was, now that he thought about it. Mid-twenties, maybe? He wasn't old... But it was difficult to get lost in Shang's features when they flitted from angry to miserable to blank and back again. 

“One week to go.” Chien-Po stated quietly as he walked beside Ping.

“Huh?”

“Until the Chongyang Festival.” The large, gentle man gave Ping a miserable smile. “We're climbing the mountain too soon.”

“Maybe in one week, all this will be over and we can climb again. With our dogwood pouches around our necks.”

Words died out again and they wondered where they might be in a week's time. Dead, perhaps, or bleeding out on a doomed battlefield as the Huns cut them down. Ping couldn't see anyway their company could match the forces they were up against, never mind over come them.

Maybe in the city, where there were many people who could take up arms. But still, people had sent out their best to fight... those mostly likely to survive. Perhaps there were other companies that had not been there, others who would be close enough to help. 

Even so, the fight couldn't happen in the city. People would die. 

In the mountains, then? They were only a small company, easy to pick off. 

“Mushu?” he whispered, slowing slightly to let Chien-Po move in front of him.

“ _What is it?_ ” The guardian had been quiet, his usually loud personality subdued in light of what they were up against.

“If we find them on the way through this pass, how do we fight them?”

“ _They're heading to the city_.” Mushu replied, the confusion evident in his voice.

“And what if they come back and ambush us?” He hissed. He knew it was over planning, but he didn't care. “High ground. You're supposed to have high ground.”

“ _We're surrounded by high ground_.” Mushu had apparently decided to join in anyway.

“We don't have the strength to win, so we have to use tactics.”

“ _What tactics?_ ”

“I have no idea.” Ping frowned, looking around for inspirations. 

“ _There's nothing around here but snow. All the rocks are hidden underneath it and we aren't._ ”

“Maybe we should be... No, better than that. Maybe they should be.”

“ _What?_ ” 

“But how...”

But before he could fully consider it, an arrow knocked Shang off his horse. 

“Shang!” Ping yelled, spinning around to see where it had come from. 

“ _So much for high ground. Run!_ ” Mushu yelled, and he was right. Ping hadn't considered the idea of an ambush seriously enough. They were surrounded.

“Get out of range!” the Captain yelled as he got to his feet, and the troops began to run. 

The arrows kept falling though, and Ping didn't dare look up at their enemy. Instead, he focussed on leading his horse through the snow as they were fired upon.

The wagon attached to Tianma caught fire and memories of the burning village came to mind.

“Help, please!” He cried as she reared back, the arrows now lit on fire. “Please!”

The others kept running, heading down the pass. No one was risking getting hit by looking around wildly. He had stopped though, unwilling to leave Tianma and their fire power.

“Shang! Jian! Anyone?!” 

“Save the cannons!” yelled Shang, and the soldiers stared to run back.

With Mushu in his armour rather than the wagon, Ping cut his horse loose before turning back to help. 

“Empty it!” Shang's voice was clear over the cries, and Ping was already half inside the burning structure as he passed the cannons back. 

“That's most of 'em!” Yao shouted, pulling Ping back before letting go and running. The young man wrapped his arms around the final cannon he had retrieved and hurried after the others.

The force of the explosion nearly knocked Ping's legs out from underneath him, but with some scrambling he kept going. As they approached their own soldiers, Ping noticed them firing cannons at the mountain side.

“That's it.” He stopped. The archers were retreating now, but Ping's eyes weren't on them, nor were they on the main body of the Hun army as it appeared over the rise. He was looking at the mountains that surrounded them.

Being a small company would surely be an advantage now.

“Get to cover. Go high!” He instructed as he ran further down. 

Flint in hand, he aimed up the mountain to where the snow was untouched and likely far looser... more movable... A spark sent the cannon up, and the battle cries of the opposing soldiers was drowned out by a rumbling from up high. Ping's face had been far too close to the cannon, but while his body had been protected by his armour, his face was burnt. The pain was distant though, dismissed as unimportant by the adrenaline that surged through him.

“Shit.” Ping swore softly as the army continued to advance. He stepped back as he willed the mountain to fall faster. “Going then.”

He turned and ran, unable to judge where the army was behind him over the roar of the avalanche. A sword caught his side, causing him to yell out, but momentum kept him going. 

“ _Come on, come on, come on!_ ”

Shang hadn't listened it seemed, as he urged his horse towards Ping. 

“Let's go!” He cried, pulling the young man up and they turned.

Shang was able to ride with the flow, but they were moving quickly towards a drop. He let out a scream, fear freezing is muscles more effectively than the snow that surrounded them.

They tumbled though, Yeung was unable to stay upright and Shang and Ping lost their seat. They didn't plummet though, and after a moment, Ping opened his eyes. 

There was a rope... and they were hanging from it. Shang had an arm around Ping as he hung onto a rope.

“H-Hold on!” Shang gasped, and the younger man quickly wrapped arms and legs around his captain. Moments later, they were being hoisted up, but Ping shut his eyes again. It was a long way down.

“Step back, guys. Give them some air.”

The feel of unmoving snow was welcome, but Ping didn't want to let go of Shang. The cries of the other were incomprehensible as his injuries caught up with him. 

Everything was so hot though...

“Ping? Ping! Get help! He's hurt!” 

So hot...

His eyes slid shut as Shang held him close. 

\------

When Ping opened his eyes again, his whole body ached.

“Huh?” he grunted, looking around. He was in a tent with Shang sat beside him. He could see his armour behind the man, and on the floor was the doll he had picked up.

“You're awake!” Shang was over him in an instant, eyes wide as he looked him over. “How do you feel?”

“Great.” He was actually in a lot of pain, but there was no way he would tell Shang that. 

“Your side's been bound up, and this salve is for your face.”

“Are we still in the mountains?”

“We were waiting for you to wake up.” Shang shifted back, helping Ping as he sat up. 

“What happened?”

“You wiped them out.” Shang grinned at him, though the expression was brief. “They'll kill no more.”

“What we doing now?” he slurred, head dropping onto Shang's chest as they sat together. 

“We have the sword of Shan-Yu. We'll present it to the Emperor.”

“Hmm.” He shut his eyes again.

He wanted to object, if the Huns were defeated, then he would have to go home. They would maybe spend that day together, then all of Ping's fantasies would be shattered. It was too much effort to put this into words though. He'd have to mention it when he awoke later on. Along with the fact that Shang as supposed to have gone ahead without him... He was sure they had agreed that Shang would go ahead to protect the city and then return; what if the Imperial City wasn't safe yet... But his mind was too exhausted to considered the different scenarios that may occur; he was content that, for the moment at least, Shang had chosen to remain with him, regardless of what the next day would bring. 

“Get some rest. We've sent Lei and Jian ahead to warn them, but we can take a slower pace. We've not far to go anyway.”

Ping gave a slight sigh in response, but thankfully Shang didn't seem to be after an actual answer. He simply sat and rubbed Ping's back gently, lulling him back to sleep.


	12. This and More I sat Divining, With my Head at Ease Reclining on the Cushion’s Velvet Lining

The trudge to the Imperial City was painful, to say the least. It was a long, slow walk where Ping had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. He had at least hoped that the cold wind would numb his face, wiping out the pain left behind from the cannon, but the effort of walking had caused him to heat up uncomfortably. 

Neither Tianma nor Yeung had been found though and while Ping hoped they both still lived, it meant that he had to walk, even with his injuries. He had spent some time on people’s backs, the medic overriding his own objections and Shang had made comments about both making better time and Ping being in one piece when they reached the city. He had made only token protests, but still insisted on walking on his own for intervals. It kept him distracted from the whirl of different thoughts that threatened to consume him at times.

His sister, his grandmother and his parents drifted through his mind, worry about what they might say and how they may react… concern over what they might think of Shang… and worries that this was only a war-time affair and that Shang would go back to his own life, that he would insist they part ways at the city. He worried that he was seriously slowing the company down, which was a problem as their food stores that been ruined; he worried that the Huns had survived the snow dropping on their heads; he worried that those at the palace would not see him as anyone that could realistically destroy the Huns and that he would be laughed at for his claims.

However, when they spotted the glimmering city a few days later, Ping’s fears had been forgotten as the chance for food approached. There had only been a pitiful amount of food gathered on the mountain and with everyone’s strength sapped, it had been left to Chien-Po to carry Ping.

“We’re eating first?” Asked Ling as they stepped onto the crowded streets, his eyes resting hopefully on Shang.

“Um… Yes.” The overwhelming bustle of everyday city life caused the Captain to pause for a moment, but he began to push forwards in search of food vendors. 

“We’re eating?” Ping asked softly into Chien-Po’s ear, battling an exhaustion that rose up with the temperature of the crowded streets.

“Yes, some food will improve spirits.” The man replied with a nod as he tightened his grip on Ping’s legs. 

They moved fluidly through the crowds, Chien-Po’s grace evident even around so many others while keeping another man safe on his back. 

“Here.” Shang and Yao came over, handing over small dishes filled with noodles and soybeans. Ping slipped from his friend’s back and into Shang’s embrace. “Feeling better?”

“I will soon.” The young man replied with a large grin, accepting his bowl and tucking in even as the food steamed with heat. 

There was no reply as the others began to consume the first proper meal they had had in days, the people of the Imperial City barely noticing the hungry soldiers as they filled their bellies. 

“We need…” Shang began before coughing slightly as he lowered his bowl. “We need to head to the palace guards. Lei and Jian should have made it here well ahead of us and let them know that we are on our way.”

The others agreed, still licking the juice from their fingers as the bowls were handed back. However, they hadn’t made it up the steps when Ping noticed a shadow watching them. He discreetly slipped forwards to stand by Shang and whispered softly to him.

“We’re being watched.” 

“Where from?” Asked Shang, barely glancing at Ping as he made to look unconcerned about one of his men coming to talk to any outsiders that may be observing.

“The roofs. A house back there and another on the left here. I’ve seen others making their way across the rooftops.”

“Sinister?” Shang asked, and Ping hesitated for a moment.

“I honestly think it’s the Hun army.”

“Why? They haven’t attacked.” Shang’s face was utterly blank, even as Ping’s concern flitted over his own.

“No… But they don’t have an advantage here.”

“Let’s head to the palace anyway. If it is Shan-Yu, then I don’t want to end up fighting on the streets during festival time.”

Decision made, they continued on. The threat of attack distracted Ping from all else, from his pain and his lingering hunger, his fears about the palace, and even from the beauty of the city, decorated as she was. Behind them, the others were still chatting amongst themselves and Ping left them to it, relieved that someone was going to hold up their façade, unaware as they were of any issues.

Hurrying up the steps to the palace left Ping with spots in his vision, but they were graciously welcomed inside and led to a chamber to await an audience.

“You’re here.” Lei called out a few minutes later as he entered with Jian. “Ping, how are you?”

“Better, thanks.” He smiled as the men from his spot on the floor, where he had dropped.

“It’ll be another hour at least, apparently. But, food is on its way.” Jian informed them and he settled on a cushion.

Ping would have let out a half-hearted cheer in response, feeling settled with even a little food in him, walls around him and friends beside him; however, Shang sat down, lifting his head into his lap and with the gentle petting and the soft lull of conversation, he drifted off.

\------

“Ping? Wake up.” 

“Time’s it?” he slurred as he rolled to press his face further into the warmth.

“Time to get up.” Replied an amused voice as a gentle hand pushed his shoulder. “It’s been an hour.”

Ping rolled onto is back and blinked as the room came into focus. He rubbed his eyes and glanced up at Shang, whose lap he was still lying in.

“Huh?” It took a minute for him to realise what was going on. “Are we going to see someone now?”

“They’re still busy. Food’s here though.”

His nose was blocked, likely the beginning of a cold but the scent of the food now registered, dulled though it was. He sat up and stared at the table, which had been filled.

“That smells amazing.”

“I know.” Shang grinned at him, now standing up. “I can’t wait to try some.”

The others were already eating, the chatter that had sent him off now absent. However, they all returned his smile and gestured for him to help himself. 

“You’re limping.” Shang stated as he stepped beside the table. “I thought you weren’t too bad.”

“I’m tired.” Ping explained simply. “My ribs still hurt, my face feels like it’s burning and the medic said this time it might scar, but that’s nothing compared to the worry I have of the Huns finding us.” 

His fears were bubbling up again, beginning to burst through the surface of his calm mask like a crack in a dam finally giving way to the pressure of the water; his sleep had only supressed his fright briefly. 

“We need a plan.” Shang murmured, staring at his plate of food as he considered things.

“He’ll be here for the Emperor.”

“We’re not using the Emperor as bait.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that.” Ping turned to look at his lover, knowing he wasn’t going to like this suggestion. "If I approach him, let him know it was me who fired the cannon… I mean, it’s kind of obvious.” 

He gestured to his damaged face as Shang’s expression darkened.

“No. I won’t use you as bait.”

“Better me than the Emperor… and it’s better to keep the fighting contained.” He stepped forwards and lifted his food-free hand to touch Shang’s shoulder. “I’m fast, I can lead him into a trap.”

“What trap?”

“One we’re going to set up.” Pin replied confidently, even as he could hear Mushu hissing in distress behind him. “It’ll work.”

His mind was speeding through different ideas, trying to consider all angles. 

“We’ll need to ask about the palace layout, and the guards.” He noted aloud, taking his plate over to the cushions and sitting himself down to think. “Hopefully there are corridors that are dead ends, or perhaps with simply one room where you can hide in ambush. Perhaps someway in from the palace room.”

“We don’t know if he’ll be in the palace room. We don’t know where he’s going to come from.” Shang sat down beside him, looking unhappy about the discussion, but unwilling to be left out.

“There are a few places that lead to dead ends.” Chi-Fu spoke up. “On the upper floors, you can access the roof and there are some old rooms that need fixing.”

“Really?” Ping’s surprise was evident on his face.

“Yes. Unless they have been fixed in the year since I was last here. I have worked here for more than a decade now.” He glowered at the young soldier for a moment before his expression softened slightly. “There were some rooms that were damaged in the last big storm we had. They’ve been mostly emptied, but with the beams and the other bits of debris that has been kept to be reused, there should be more than enough to hide around.”

“Thank you.” Ping smiled at him, desperately glad for some help. “If he’s creeping around the roof then we should be able to find him.”

“With yelling, perhaps.” Shang put his plate down and leaned over to grasp Ping’s hands. “You are injured. Is running around the eaves really a good idea? Maybe you should leave it to someone else.”

“I can run. I’d rather have you around to subdue him.”

“ _I won’t let him anywhere near you._ ” Mushu promised from his collar, the venom heavy in his voice.

“Trust me.” Ping finished, looking up into Shang’s eyes. “I can do this.”

“Right. Fine.” Shang dropped his head into his chest for a moment before straightening up. “I’ll go explain it to this lot if one of you two will talk to the guards.”

“Of course.” Chi-Fu stood up, holding a hand up to Ping to insist he remain sitting. “You should rest until we’re prepared.”

“Thank you.” Ping replied sincerely, lying down again and placing his head on a cushion.


	13. Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

“You know…” Ping started conversationally as he stared across the rooftops. “It’s possible that this isn’t the best idea I’ve ever had.”

“ _Really? You can’t be suggesting we went for a plan that didn’t involve using an injured boy as bait for the rest of the Hun army. That part of the plan is pretty much-_ ” Mushu’s sarcastic comments were cut off as Ping wrapped his hand around the dragon.

“I just mean that it’s a little unnerving sitting here on my own… and I ache all over before we’ve even done anything.” He glanced around again, eyes shifting over to the darkest shadows. “You do suppose it was definitely them, right? I’m not getting everyone worked up over a couple of kids who were there to cause a bit of bother…”

But before Mushu could answer, they spotted someone creeping across the roof. He was a large man, but surprisingly quiet, focussing on the main roof that covered the throne room. 

“ _That answers that._ ” Muttered Mushu as Ping straightened up.

“He’s not looking over here, Mushu. What do I do? Shout?”

“ _Chuck something at him._ ” The guardian replied. “ _You’re a good shot._ ”

Ping nodded his head and looked about for something to throw. There was nothing within reach, but by another ruined part of the roof, Ping could see a room with spare timber in. He set off, nimbly navigating the sloping rooftops and getting a chance for a decent look around; there was only a handful of men up here with Shan-Yu, six at the most. He crouched in the shadows to avoid one of them before scurrying quickly up. 

The plan was already going to struggle, he realised. If he had shouted, he would have been able to lead Shan-Yu into the trap, but he would have been unable to stop the other men. Now he was aware of the other men, but not in a position to single the leader out. He watched them from the cover of the room and thought quickly. Something needed to be done before they went for the Emperor. 

“Mushu?” He whispered softly. “Can you throw something at them from over there?”

“ _Near the market? I guess_.” The guardian gave him a curious stare.

“I want to split them up. Shang, Chien-Po and the others should be able to take out two or three of them, then we can double back to get the ones that you pulled away.”

“ _You got it_.” And with that the dragon slipped off Ping and disappeared.

The young man collected a few bits of wood for throwing before sliding back to where he had been in silence, moving with confidence over the roof as he waited for some sign that the others were moving off. 

It came soon enough; a yelp, followed by an angry shout. Ping watched four men hurry off, but he stood up and threw a small block of wood at one of the others before quickly hiding on the other side of the roof, out of sight. He hurried further around as the soft steps drew closer and chucked another piece of wood, hoping it would give the impression that there were more of them up here. 

Abandoning grace in favour of speed, Ping scrambled back to his starting place, but he didn’t reach it. Shan-Yu grinned down at him, his unhealthy yellow eyes taking in the small wood chocks as Ping dropped them in his haste to get away.

“Now now, boy. I just want to talk.” He hissed, the wrath in his voice making Ping’s whole body tremble as he moved. 

“Now would be a good time to turn up, Mushu!” Ping half-pleaded as he swung himself off the roof and dropped down into a corridor. His leg jolted painfully on landing, but he didn’t stop; he couldn’t stop! Adrenaline pumping through him, the soldier fled into another room; mostly empty, except for the cabinet against the far wall, and the low table in the middle of the room. There were no doors leading out. 

“I’ll crush you, and then I’ll take the life of your Emperor.” Shan-Yu whispered, his voice thick with blood lust.

“You can try!” Ping responded, trying to hide the gasps he was taking as edged towards the small window. “But I decimated most of your army earlier on this week and I have a few left to take care of.”

The enemy’s face became an epitaph of rage as Ping bit his own lip, silently cursing the bravado that had burst forth. Still, it wasn't called ‘blind anger’ without a cause, he reasoned as he slipped closer to the window. Perhaps it would make the man clumsy. 

He had no sword, apparently unwilling to use another’s weapon, even when his own was unavailable, but the Hun leader still had a dagger. Ping drew his own sword, his arms trembling as he held it before him. Shan-Yu chuckled darkly at this, his expression indicating that he found Ping no more threatening than a puppy; capable of taking a bite, but not lethal. 

“Perhaps I’ll skin you alive in front of your countrymen then.” He growled, a smirk still sat on his face. “Show them the fate of those who would defy me.”

Ping was at the window though, he swung his sword at the frame once, twice, thrice before it gave way enough for Ping to slip through. Shan-Yu grabbed his ankle though, the young man not quite quick enough in actually making a gap.

For one terrifying moment, Ping hung upside down, his stomach jolting as his mind raced through different options. He reached a decision without consciously making it though when Shan-Yu began to pull him back up; the young man stabbed his sword upwards, slicing into man’s wrist. Blood began to pour from his wrist and Ping fell a distance to the hard ground of another rooftop.

Whimpering as fresh pain exploded in his ribcage, Ping lay dazed for a moment, before more wood dropped beside him. Lancing up, he could see a strong arm forcing a larger gap through the window that he’d fallen from.

“Time to move.” He moaned, but quickly realised he couldn’t put his foot down; his ankle had been crushed in that merciless grip. “Shit.”

Across the roof, he could see the place he was supposed to be, though now he was a fair bit lower down, at least he had an idea of where the others were. Scurrying on his knees, he managed to get to the right part of the palace, into another corridor. No one was here… all the guards would have tightened security around the Emperor and the other soldiers were waiting several floors up and Ping rather hoped that they had taken out the two of Shan-Yu’s men that he gone that way. Mushu was somewhere else, with any luck taking care of the other four…

And Ping jerked as he heard a loud thump; Shan-Yu had now jumped from the window and would be making his way over. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Ping crawled as quickly as he could to the end of the corridor.

“Where are you?” taunted a soft voice, sending shudders up Ping’s spine as he spotted a staircase further down the next corridor. 

“Go, go, go, go.” Ping chanted to himself and he moved.

“Come out, come out!” the voice was singing, the light tone nearly enough to make the soldier cry. It was his plan and he was not going to be the reason this failed.

He got up only a few stairs when Shan-Yu’s voice entered the corridor he was in, still calling out mocking taunts, as though this was nothing more than a game.

“I can do this.” Ping whispered, the first of his tears now falling as he half crawled along. “I can do this.”

“There you are.”

Ping was at the top of the stairs, with his hands on the next floor up, but Shan-Yu was faster than he was. Within seconds Ping let out a loud scream as he scrambled back against a wall, only to have it reduced to rumble as Shan-Yu swung Ping’s own sword through it, timber and mortar giving way to the impressive strength. 

The man dropped Ping’s sword and wrapped a large hand around the boy’s neck.

“You should know better than to defy me.” He growled. 

“Ping!” came a strangled yell from inside, and the young man realised that his scream must have carried enough for his friends to hear.

Their presence gave him courage, and Ping looked deep into the cold eyes before him.

“I will kill you here.” Shan-Yu continued, unbothered by the new threat. “I will destroy you so completely that every one of you pathetic ants shall bow down before me.”

“We… won’t” Hissed Ping, spotting the dagger that had been tucked into the aggressor’s belt.

“You already tremble with fear. Those who are granted their lives will continue to tremble every time they hear my name.”

“Nevermore!” he gasped, his own hands coming to rest on Shan-Yu’s, helping him regain some control of his own body. “People will scoff when-”

He didn’t have enough breath to finish the thought, but Ping swung his feet up planted the soles either side of it, tugging the weapon free. Dropping one hand, he just managed to twist himself enough to grab it and he swung it up to slice through Shan-Yu’s already injured arm.

The man let go, releasing Ping, who dropped down again, this time falling onto the hard floor of a balcony. Eyes clenched shut and the dagger still tightly in his grip, Ping lay still for a moment, unable to move. 

There was a loud cry above him as his friends had apparently charged at Shan-Yu, but he remained where he was, the threat above him to enough to make him stir.

“ _Ping? Ping!_ ” 

Mushu’s hot paws pressed onto his face, and Ping’s eyes fluttered as he forced them open.

“’m alive.” He slurred softly as he rolled onto his back, vision drifting towards the place he had fallen from… There were sounds of a fight coming from up there. 

“ _How badly you hurt?_ ”

“My ankle… my ribs… throat… face… everything…” it was hard to narrow it down, he hurt so much that he just wanted to curl up and go to sleep.

There was a yell, a crash and a body thumped onto the balcony beside him. Though the man was groaning, still alive, Mushu didn’t hide away this time. Ling probably wouldn’t believe what he was seeing, if he was aware enough to take anything in. 

“No!” Shang’s voice was recognisable as he let out a cry. 

Shan-Yu had jumped down and landed on the balcony.

“I can’t do this.” Whispered Ping as he pulled himself to his feet, the dagger held within his shaky grasp.

“ _You can, buddy. You got this._ ”

“I really don’t think I can.”

“ _Not on your own, maybe. But you and me, pretty boy? We’re a team. We’ve got this._ ” Mushu curled around his neck, a comforting weight as he looked into the cold, yellow gaze once more.

“Together.” He breathed, widening his stance and forcing calm over himself.

“ _See? He’s been injured too. We just need to finish him off. Get him close and I’ll help._ ”

Pin nodded, before pushing himself forwards at speed. Mushu was right, Shan-Yu’s right arm was hanging useless by his side, and there was a stain on his side that was growing. It was possible. 

As they two men tangled, Mushu flew over the enemy’s skin, biting everywhere he could reach, and breathing flame over the thicker clothing to set it alight. Ping grinned a cold, brittle smile as he sliced the blade through the skin of the other’s left arm; he had no idea what he others were doing. His world had narrowed down to this; himself and Mushu against Shan-Yu.

He ducked an attack, and finding himself unable to get back up in a spritely fashion, he thrust the dagger into the thigh before him. It was only because the other man froze with shock and pain that Ping was able to drag the dagger back out… and when Shan-Yu faltered and dropped to one knee, Ping put all of his weight behind sinking the dagger firmly into his chest.

Shan-Yu backhanded him, knocking him back to the ground, but the damage was done. Mushu scrambled from the falling body over to his charge as Shan-Yu curled on the balcony, the life rapidly draining from him.

“Ping!” a panicked shout came, and Shang had made his way down safely with Yao and Chien-Po.

“There… six men... more.” He gasped, eyes already too heavy to open again, even as he forced his mouth to keep moving.

“We got two. Jian and Lei went with some of the palace guards to some commotion elsewhere.”

“ _That may have been me and the Cricket. I took down two and the guards took down the others._ ” His guardian’s reassurances could have been a lullaby. 

As Shang continued to worry by his side, Ping relaxed into the embrace, content to let fate play out as it would now that Shan-Yu would no longer threaten them.


	14. Tell me, truly, I implore

Ping’s eyes were too heavy to open; that was the first the thing he realised. The next was that the sun was shining down on him, its warmth a gentle caress against the pains that were making themselves known. 

He lay still for a moment, listening to the twitter of nearby birds and the quiet murmur of people. It was highly unlikely that they were still in the field anymore, Ping was lying on an actual bed and there was a heavy blanket covering his legs. He kept his eyes shut for a few minutes longer, trying to recall what has happened...

Shan-Yu had escaped the mountains... He had attacked the palace. Ping realised that his injuries had to have come from that battle; his face burnt from the cannon in the mountains, his side from the sword that had glanced him as he'd escaped and now his ankle, ribs and throat from Shan-Yu chasing him through the palace. 

He wanted to know where he was though; still at the palace, in the care of another medic in the city, or had they taken him home? For a moment, the young man desperately wanted to be at home, and he didn’t even care if it would be disappointment on the faces of his family; he just wanted to see them again. With this in mind, Ping forced his eyelids open; it took a moment before he could see, his eyes remaining rolled back even as their lids obeyed. 

The high ceiling answered the most important part, he wasn’t back home yet. Turning his head was difficult and it took a large portion of his energy to accomplish, but it made the young lad nearby jump to his feet.

“Please wait sir, I’ll go get the doctor.” And the boy was scrambling out the door before Ping could sluggishly think of a response. 

It seemed like seconds later when someone was talking and Ping was having to force open eyes that he didn’t remember shutting. 

Staying awake while the doctor checked him over was a struggle and by the time the man was done, Ping had missed his chance to ask about Shang and the others; but it had to wait as the effort of opening his eyes and talking to anyone again was too great.

\------

The next time Ping woke, the same young boy was sat in the corner of the room again. 

He told Ping “It’s only been half a day since the doctor left" as he stood up with a smile on his face. He hurried out the room, calling back “Your friend wants to see you.”

Shang? He rather hoped so. The doctor had informed him that over two weeks had passed since Shan-Yu had been defeated. Ping had no memory of the time in between, but he found he missed his captain anyway. Still, he would have liked to have seen Mushu too, but his guardian wouldn’t be hanging around where people would see him. Hopefully, the dragon was hiding just out of sight.

As he waited, another slightly older boy came in, carrying a tray. “The doctor said you are to have the tea he has prepared. There is also soup as you will not be able to eat much else.” As he spoke, Ping made his shaking arms work to push him into sitting up. Again, the effort of moving left him tired, but the thought of tea and soup was enough to keep the man awake. 

“Thank you.” He mumbled as the other held out cup to his lips. He didn’t bother asking to hold it himself as his hands were likely to be too unsteady.

As the tea perked him up, his eyes drifted to the bowl of soup. The thought of food becoming more tempting as the moments slipped by. It was only the cry of “Ping!” from a familiar voice pulled his gaze away. Dressed smartly but without armour, Shang was a welcome sight as he walked into the room and dismissed both boys.

“How are you?” He asked earnestly, “I heard you had woken earlier but I missed my chance.”

“I’m...” He hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest. “I ache. My face feels too tight and everything feels heavy.”

“Your face...”

“But for the moment, I’m awake and I’m hungry.” Ping smiled sheepishly at him as Shang glanced at the bowl. He was glad to see Shang and was beyond thankful that he hadn’t been left here in his own, but his appetite was making itself known.

“Do you need help? I mean... It’s not that I think you incapable, but I just... that not just now was-”

“Help would be appreciated.” Ping interrupted with a grin. However, he dozed off again after just a few mouthfuls and he once more wondered where Mushu had gone.

\------

The guardian didn’t show up again until more than a week later. Nonetheless, when he did arrive it was with a swagger that said he was very pleased with himself. 

“ _Hey, buddy._ ” The dragon slid up the bed to stand on Ping’s chest. “ _You're looking better._ ”

The young man moved the guardian off his ribs, which were still sore before smiling gently at his friend. “I’m getting there, apparently. All I can tell is that I hurt less and I’m not sleeping so much.”

“ _You're still in pain?_ ” Ping laughed slightly at the look on Mushu’s face. 

“Not all of us are fast healers. I’m not allowed to walk normally on my ankle for months yet and I... well, I have a fair few scars that aren’t going to go.”

“ _You think anyone cares that you aren’t a flawless pretty boy anymore? Cos if they do then point them out to me and to they can have a few burns to match... and a few lower down too._ ” Mushu had come to stand beside his head now, glaring down as he defended Ping from imagined tormentors. 

“Where’ve you been, Mushu?” Ping asked, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice as he looked at the dragon.

Mushu grinned widely at him, his body straightening up as he replied. “ _I’ve been getting your family over here._ ”

Ping startled, staring at his guardian. “My family? How?”

“ _I’ll tell you this, it wasn’t easy. Man, I had to write so many letters and talk to myself just out of sight of so many people to get this arranged._ ”

“My family are coming? Here? Who? When?”

“ _Mulan and your Grandmother... also an escort of some locals who I think really just wanted to see the Imperial City.”_

“Are they here yet?” 

“ _They’re in the city, not sure if they’ve reached the palace yet. Oh, I overheard something else. You’re gonna be meeting the Emperor soon._ ”

“Me?” Ping gaped at his guardian, surprised for a moment before nerves suddenly struck him. “He wants to see me? But I can’t stand well yet. And I’m not… you know…”

Mushu puffed himself up indignantly before Ping could finish speaking, having correctly guessed where the young man was going from his body language and half-hearted gestures. “ _If you’re trying to say you aren’t important then I have news for you; you saved China from the Hun army. Of course he wants to meet you. He’s met Shang and the others, but he wanted to wait until you were feeling better._ ”

“Why?” 

“Conversations don’t work so well when one party falls asleep half way through.” But whatever he had been going to say next was interrupted as the man who had been stepping into the room was knocked out the way by a young woman. 

“Ping!” She yelled, throwing herself at him.

“Ping?” Shang was following her into the room, confusion etched into his face.

Ping didn’t notice Shang’s face though, he was entirely focussed on his dearly missed sister. As they clung to one another, an elderly woman limped slowly into the room; the was a moment when she paused, unnoticed by the others as relief, pride and love flitted across her face before the hint of a grin she usually wore settled back into position. 

“I always knew you’d be trouble.” She announced as she made her way over to the bed. 

“Grandmother!” Ping reached out a hand to her, unable to shift more with Mulan still embracing him. “You know I don’t mean to be troublesome.”

“But trouble always seems to find you, my boy.” She grasped his hand tightly, once more allowing her love to shine through. 

“How’s everyone been?” Ping asked as Shang turned and left the room unnoticed, but with a smile on his face. “What have I missed?”

Mulan sat back to answer, but their Grandmother beat her to it. “Who cares? I want to hear about how my grandson is a hero!”

Ping laughed, but quickly realised the women wanted to hear about it. He flinched, eyes dropping as he raised a hand to cover the scars on his face. “I can’t…” he whispered but his healed throat clogged up. 

“Don’t listen to her, Ping. It’s enough to know that you’re safe.” Mulan's voice was steady as she gripped his shoulders and waited for him to lift his eyes.

“You’ve done the hard part, Ping.” Their Grandmother said, her eyes gentle and her grin absent. “We’ll be home soon, you just need to be strong for a little bit longer.”

He shook his head, tears finally welling up as he pressed his face into Mulan’s neck. Her whisper of “I’ll be strong for you.” Was a promise he clung to as he settled down to listen to the women recount their own journey over… their own journey that had had far more close calls than necessary thanks to their Grandmother’s utter confidence in yet another ‘lucky cricket’. 

\------

“So… Grandmother and sister, huh?” 

Shang and Ping were sat out on a balcony the next morning, wrapped in thick clothing as the unexpected warm weather they had been having had dropped away and left a chill in the air. Shang had headed over not long after dawn to watch Ping while he slept and had then sent for tea and breakfast when he had woken. 

“Someone must have let them know I was here.” He half-explained with an amused grin tugging at his lips as he thought about Mushu. “I think they are going to stay here until I’m ready to go back home.”

“That’ll be after you’ve met with the Emperor, I guess.” Shang’s voice had an odd note to it, causing Ping to turn and look at him. There was an odd look on his face, but the young man wasn’t quite able to translate it. 

“What’s wrong?” As Shang opened his mouth Ping held up a hand. “And don’t say ‘nothing’.”

“I live here, in this city. My mother is here, my brothers are here…” He hesitated for a moment before reaching out to grasp Ping’s hand. “You live far away. I don’t want to say goodbye.”

“Then don’t.” Ping stood up and hopped slightly before dropping into Shang’s lap. “I don’t need to leave the army. I can stay here and work with you.”

Shang wrapped his arms around him, shutting his eyes and enjoying the closeness. “But your family…” he whispered. 

“They’ll get by without me. Mulan can see to the farm, in time.” Ping pushed the older man’s head up so that their eyes met. “My place was not there, it is here. I hope, in part with you, but also where I can be myself. I admit that I would like a more gentle job than a soldier but it fits me better than trying to help with farm work.”

“You’re going to come back then?”

“Yes.” 

Ping leaned forwards to press their lips together, revelling in the caress of hands on his back and the surrender of Shang’s mouth to his exploration. The soft slide of lips as Shang opened his mouth to Ping’s probing tongue made the younger man’s breath quicken, desire forming a hazy cloud over his thoughts as the hands on his back dipped lower.

“Ouch!” Shang suddenly yelped and jerked up. He caught Ping before the other toppled over, but only one of them caught a glimpse of the long, red body that was disappearing inside. “Something bit me!”

“Oh.” Ping gasped, his arousal having dropped away so quickly that his head was spinning, thought falling backwards probably hadn’t helped. “It was probably just some annoying, little insect.” He stated pointedly as he pressed close again, eyes flitting about to find where his bothersome guardian had gone.

Shang smiled wryly, but didn’t try starting their activity up again. “Not to worry. I promised myself I wouldn’t truly have you until we had a home together, wherever that may be.”

“You still want to live in a village and train local boys to fight then?” Ping asked, his mind recalling a conversation that seemed to be a lifetime ago. 

He nodded, “In time. For now, I’m content in the army. What was it that you wanted to do again?”

“I’d like to work as a scribe, like Chi-Fu does.” Even after everything, the idea felt like a very distant goal, however the chance to travel and record not just what was going on with the army but with the different lives of those they encountered was something of a dream.

“I’ll talk to someone. Surely after what you have done, you can make a start somewhere.” Shang stated, his eyes soft as his hands moved up to caress his face. “What are you doing today?”

“You mean do we have much time to be together? I’m not sure. I’m having a bath soon though and getting properly clean again is likely to take some time.” He smirked at Shang who had gone red, even as his own face flushed slightly. 

“A bath? Well, yes… If you need help scrubbing… Or not, I meant what I said about waiting until we’re in our own home before I lay you out and fully adore you, body, mind and soul.”

Ping laughed happily as kissed Shang’s forehead, his mind moving too quickly in forming a plan to get bogged down in arousal. “I’m sure. First a bath, then meet the Emperor. After that sort out my future career as a scribe or a soldier then I’ll go home, see my family before coming back to live my life with you.”

“Perfection.” Whispered Shang, kissing the man again. 

Ping pulled back as something else occurred to him. “And then double-check my Grandmother hasn’t joined the army herself. She’s been making comments about fine, young men.” He added, a fond grin on his face as he imagined the havoc she could cause. 

“Before that, I’d rather you tell me, honestly, all about this future home we’re going to have. I want so many details that I can see it in my sleep.”

Ping laughed again as a cheeky expression formed on his face. “All you need to know is that you will be there, I will be there, and so will the bed we are going to share.”


	15. And My Soul from Out that Shadow that Lies Floating on the Floor Shall be Lifted

The sight of his family home honestly filled Ping with relief as it came closer. They’d been riding for what felt like forever and the young man was more than ready to stop. They had already passed the main village, where their escort had stopped and allowed them to return here alone.

“This is it?” Shang asked softly from behind Ping, where he was in control of their horse (The younger soldier still too injured to manage on his own).

Ping nodded and Mulan pushed her own horse on, a burst of speed that kicked up dirt behind her as his Grandmother cackled behind them on her own, smaller ride. “Yeah, this is it.”

As they entered the gates and Ping slid off the horse’s back to lean against her side, his parents appeared. Shang dismounted before stepping away, but Ping didn’t manage to tell him to come back before his mother’s arms had pulled him into a tight embrace.

“I thought you were dead!” She whispered, her voice wobbling as she held him close. “You left and it wasn’t until so much later on that we heard rumours that General Li’s force had been…” she cut off, he voice failing as she let out a small sob.

“Mother...” Ping sank into the warm embrace, his eyes shut as he pressed his face into her neck. He hadn’t expected the sudden rush of emotions that had filled him; the relief at seeing all of his family here and in one piece, the way it settled something within himself to see his mother even though they had never been close. 

“Who have you brought to see us?” His father spoke up, and Ping lifted his face to look at the man. He looked older than he ever had before; Ping had been gone for less than a year but it seemed as though his father had aged by several…

“Captain Li Shang.” Shang bowed as Ping replied “He’s my friend.”

His father accepted the introduction and invited Shang to stay for dinner. Ping smiled as he limped passed, but a hand on his shoulder as the rest of the family led Shang inside made him pause. The young man stared up into his father’s eyes for a long moment as the other seemed to be searching for answers, before he nodded and smiled. 

“I have a spare walking stick that you can have.” He said, in favour of explaining what he had been looking for in his son’s face.

“I don’t want to take that from you. I’m healing quite quickly.”

“Please.” The man reached a large hand up to ghost his fingers over the scars left on Ping’s face, his expression more revealing, more vulnerable than the young man had ever seen it. “Please.”

Ping nodded his head. “Thank you.”

“Now, let us eat.” His father said, straightening up and holding out an arm for his son to steady himself with. Slowly, they limped together through to the others where Mulan was serving tea. 

The rest of the evening was surreal in light of how different it was to the life Ping had gotten used to. It was odd having to sensor his gestures towards Shang as his parents were paying him far more attention than they had ever managed before. 

“How long are you staying for, Captain Li?” His mother asked later on, once they had finished eating.

“We will be here for a week, then we will return.” Ping answered, causing both his parents to startle.

“You… are leaving again?” His mother asked in a soft, hesitant voice.

“Yes. I’ve been given a job and I want to get settled in our home before starting.” He replied, aiming to sound confident even though he was distinctly nervous at telling them that he was moving out.

“A job?” His father asked, before his mother could speak up. “What job have you been given? You are still injured.”

“I am to apprentice under Chi-Fu as a scribe.” Ping grinned at his hands as they rested on the table. The older scribe had spoken up for Ping when he’d gotten tongue-tied in front of the Emperor and had been unable to speak his request, despite the monarch’s kindly attitude.

“You will be safe then?” His mother asked, her expression bizarrely concerned as she watched him. 

“Chi-Fu is a scribe in the army, not the palace. However, I have trained and I know how to fight.” Ping pointed out. He watched her conflicted countenance for a moment before she spoke up again.

“You have grown up.” She curled her fingers together. “You may have been a child when you left, but you have returned as a grown man.”

The warmth and affection in her voice almost overwhelmed the young man, and Ping had to take deep breaths to keep his own face calm. When he was sure he could speak evenly, he whispered “Mother…”

“Where is your home to be now?” She asked, straightening up and ignoring the glistening tear that clung to the corner of her eye.

“We have a small house just outside the Imperial City. It will be tended to when we are away.” The Emperor had been generous and had realised that Ping would not take well to the attention a hero would gather while living in the city. However, he had granted Ping and Shang a permanent room in his palace for when he called on them. 

His mother smiled and nodded, but it was watery as she fought to hold back tears.

“You’d better have enough space for me to visit.” Mulan told him quietly, her expression slightly mournful as she fully acknowledged that Ping had indeed moved onto the next stage of his life. 

“Always. And if you take too long about it then I’ll come and steal you away!” He answered fiercely. “You’re my sister and you can’t get away from that.”

“I’ve never wanted to!” She grinned back at him.

\------

While it had been a relief to return home and quite wonderful to realise that his parents weren’t angry with him, Ping was more than ready to leave by the end of the week. 

The journey back had been a wonderful chance to settle back down with just himself and Shang making the trip back. As much as Ping loved his family, even his sister, there was something relaxing about leaving them behind. 

The evening of their return, Shang had gone to bathe as Ping pottered around their new home, leaning on the cane his father had given him as he took in the rooms and made vague plans to change things and make this home their own. It was small, but there was more than enough space for two men on in love to live together without falling over one another. 

“ _I hope you’re planning to give me a room_.” Mushu stated from his perch on Ping’s shoulder. “ _I don’t want to be sharing when you and lover boy are doing the deed._ ”

Ping felt a blush again his cheeks as he stumbled. “Mushu!” he hissed. 

“ _I don’t want to see you two in just your skin, thank you!_ ”

“I know.” He grinned at his guardian. “I thought you were going to stay back at home. I mean, at my parent's home.”

“ _Well, you haven’t left the army yet. My job ain’t finished._ ” Mushu jumped on to the table in the middle of the room to give Ping an important stare as he stretched his body to look tall.

“Thanks, Mushu. But if you get a space then I’ll have to explain it to Shang.” 

“ _You want to tell him ‘bout me?_ ” Mushu didn’t look annoyed at this, but curious. 

“You are both a big deal, you know? If you are going to be here then Shang should know.”

“ _I'll think about it_.” Mushu replied, but Ping knew he would get his own way eventually. 

“Ping? I’m all done if you’re ready to go get washed now.” Shang appeared in the doorway as Mushu slipped out of sight. 

“Thanks. I’m more than ready to get clean and then sleep.” He limped over, lifting his face for a kiss as he reached the older man. 

Shang chuckled “I offered to let you go first.”

Ping didn’t answer, simply running a hand down the warm chest before leaning forward to press a kiss to the spot where he had stopped. Shang ran a hand through his loose hair, kissed Ping’s forehead and let the other shuffle through the doorway. 

In the bath, Ping relaxed in the cooling water, contentment seeping through him. He had a home, a lover, a job and a life outside of his parent's expectations; better than that, even... he had rewritten their expectations and they had accepted his life.

Shutting his eyes, Ping let his head rest against the damp cushion that protected his head from the hard, wooden rim of the bath. He looked forward to the day he would prepare his body for Shang in this tub, but as he fought to stay awake, the day seemed far off. Shang didn’t want to take him before his leg had healed and Ping himself was content to wait until they were both fully settled in and ready.

\------

Settled and ready arrived several weeks later. Ping could walk without a limp if he went slow enough and the pain elsewhere had gone. His face was still scarred, but the burns had calmed down and Ping had been reassured to find that Shang hadn’t been bothered by his looks. In fact, when Ping had asked, Shang had pointed out that Ping had gotten the injuries in defence of their unit and Shang himself. Apparently most the time he didn’t really notice them, other than to wonder if the were hurting Ping at all... but sometimes the sight of them filled him with such pride that his heart ached with it.

The words of that serious conversation echoed in the young man’s head often. It would have been hard to accept that Shang loved him for who he was and regardless of his looks if it wasn’t reality that he lived everyday. However, the older man never gave the slightest hint of disgust when he kissed Ping’s face, nor shame when the two wandered into the city and people stared. 

“Let them stare.” He had said simply when Ping had commented on the looks and whispers that followed them. “You’re pretty well known as a hero so that could be the reason they look.”

“Mulan would be so annoyed, regardless of the reason.” Ping had responded. Mulan had plans to visit when the weather got warm again. 

“I don’t think you need me to fight any battles for you.” Shang had grinned, the look in his eyes hinting strongly at the desire that he was feeling.

“No. It took me a while, but I’m learning to do that for myself.” Not that he likes to argue in the slightest, but he didn’t let others walk over him anymore.

And now, Ping held his towel tighter around himself as he watched Shang approach with confident steps, his broad chest already starting to heave as he drank in the sight of Ping, dressed in just the sodden piece of cloth and a vibrant blush after his bath.

They had discussed the act itself in far more detail than Ping had ever wanted to, but Shang had been adamant that the young man would know what was going to happen and how the act would be performed. 

Now, mouth slightly ajar as he focussed on the shifting muscles of his lover's chest, Ping was glad that he knew exactly what to expect. If anything, the foreknowledge made his body burn with desire before they had even touched one another.

Shang stripped bare as Ping dropped his towel and lay back in the blankets. 

“Shall we?” asked Shang, his gaze hot but careful in a way that hinted at the control he had over his body. 

Ping nodded and bit back a whimper as their flesh met in a burning embrace and Shang took time to scramble his senses even more.

Fingers scratching at broad shoulders, Ping lost himself in the sensations that battered his whole being; in the weight that pushed him into the blankets, the rub of skin that caught and tugged less and less as their rocking together built up a sweat, in the gentle moans that kept escaping Shang as he explored Ping’s trembling body.

By the time Shang’s trailing lips had reached his nipples, Ping’s thoughts had disappeared entirely and he seemed to exist as little more than a tool, there to be used as Shang wanted and Ping knew that Shang would keep to what they had agreed on; no rash decisions made when their thoughts weren’t together. 

“The one thing I didn’t consider...” Shang spoke up, his voice hoarse with need as his hot breath covered Ping’s erection, “is that you are probably young enough to find completion once and then seek it out again with little gap.”

“Shang...” He moaned, his legs coming up and pressing into the man's armpits as he held himself up over the younger one. Talk of completion while his skin tingled with need only made him ache more. 

“Next time.” He promised, and Ping opened his eyes wide enough to see Shang looking hungrily at the cock that stood proud before him. “Next time...”

He surged back up to devour Ping’s mouth, groaning loudly as their erections met and Ping wrapped both legs tightly around his middle. 

“Please.” Ping hissed, his eyes shut tightly as he fought his need to come. 

“Did you... after your bath, did you...”

“Yes.” 

Shang had given him a jar of thick lotion and told him to practise working fingers into his body several weeks ago. Tonight, Ping had carefully taken his time with it as the knowledge of what was to come had filled him with anticipation.

Now, he allowed Shang to turn him over, drawing his knees up to his chest as the other man moaned loudly at the sight. In a heartbeat, slick fingers that were not his own breached his body for the first time and he forced himself to relax.

Shang himself was letting out small whimpers with every exhale as he carefully pushed his fingers in and out, exploring the tight passage that he was going to sheath himself in. 

“Ready?” he gasped, as Ping nodded enthusiastically and pushed his backside even higher. 

The entry hurt more than the young man had expected, but the dimming of his arousal brought enough clarity to his mind for action. With deep breaths, he pushed out and then yelped as Shang slid in quicker than expected.

“Still... fine?” Along the line of his back, Ping could feel his lover trembling. Grasping for a hand, Ping kissed Shang’s knuckles and nodded his head. 

“Good... good job you aren’t too big.” 

Shang snorted and Ping found that, surrounded by the other man in a safe embrace his size felt perfect. He squeezed his muscles experimentally and enjoyed the thrill that washed over him as Shang moaned.

The first rock was not, Ping noted, painful. He felt very full and while it was uncomfortable, that feeling was disappearing as Shang tugged his hand away from Ping’s to rub across his chest. The movements were not well coordinated but Shang’s touch made his skin burn with need; his fingers brushed over nipples and through the sparse trail of hair that lead to Ping’s reawakened erection. 

The dual sensation of the hot slide behind him and the awkward yet delicious grip on his cock soon had Ping groaning with need; the awareness of Shang’s own desperation as he thrust wantonly into Ping’s body and the occasional jolt of pure pleasure it sent through his nerves soon proved to be too much and Ping wailed as his orgasm ripped through him. 

The rutting behind him became more erratic as Shang continued to plough into him; unable to form words as his lips hung open beside Ping’s ear, the man allowed his loud moans to echo through his young lover’s head. 

Reaching down, Ping ruined Shang’s balance when he tugged at his hand; with Shang’s weight almost completely on him, he pulled up the come covered hand and began to lap gently at it. This, apparently, was all his lover could handle as Shang’s hips jerked and he came deep inside Ping. 

If he’d had the energy, he would have grinned but he could feel sleep rapidly approaching. Wincing as he turned over to look at Shang, Ping noted sleepily that his own glistening eyes were matched by the few tears that seemed to have fallen from the older man's eyes. He wanted to say something, to comfort or reassure the other, but all Ping managed was a soft sigh as his eyes slid shut and he was pulled against Shang’s chest. The heat felt almost overpowering as he was still sweating and soon he would undoubtedly need to move away, but for the moment it was comforting to feel that firm body pressing close to him. 

He let out another sigh followed by a small but inelegant snort as he rapidly dozed off.

\------

What woke Ping up the next morning was a terrified yelp and a thud as the man he had been lying beside tumbled out of the bed and scrambled back against the wall.

“Shang?” He sat up quickly, adrenaline rushing through him as he took in the room, looking for a threat. 

“ _I thought you were going to tell him about me!_ ” Mushu was on the pillow beside Ping, his expression vexed as he stared straight ahead at the wall. 

“And you thought the time to check that out was now? Mushu!” Ping cried, embarrassment flooding him as his body ached and he realised that they were both naked and he had to get to the toilet. 

“ _I’d think it was something to talk about before you two got going.”_

“Not yet! We can talk when we’ve eaten.” Ping answered, hurrying out the room and taking the blanket with him, leaving behind a mildly irate guardian dragon and a naked Shang. 

Left behind, the two blinked at each other before scrambling to get sorted. Mushu left the room while grumbling loudly about pretty boys and pedestals, but Shang sighed happily and dressed as he fought back a grin. He had a distinct feeling that life with Ping would never be too dull to cope; he couldn’t wait for the happenings of work, pleasure and everything in-between.


End file.
